


Comfort and Redemption

by maisiesmells



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anxiety, Auror! Harry, M/M, Minor Character Death, Violence, a lot of time spent in the lake district, and making potions that harry does not understand At All, but its not super depressing!!, healer! draco, lots of fluff, recovery is the name of the game here, slight self harm, warnings: ptsd
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-02-29 23:12:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18788191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maisiesmells/pseuds/maisiesmells
Summary: Harry has all he'd ever dreamt of.Voldemort's dead and he's an Auror at the Ministry.But he's lonely, and will always be The Boy Who Lived, not just Harry.But when the new healer at the ministry takes care of Harry after a particularly brutal job, Harry begins to find comfort in the most unexpected of places.





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is already posted on wattpad (just bc its easier for me to write on there), but this version is slightly more edited- no plot differences though!  
> If you'd prefer to read on wattpad, its called 'Comfort and Redemption - Drarry' by BananaTreeGirl
> 
> If you'd like to come shout at me about not updating (i'm in the middle of a-levels so it's probably going to be slow until the end of june-ish) my tumblr is @ acosmosofflowers
> 
> thanks for reading!! x

"Thanks Dewlort." Harry nodded at the young wizard who had his black cloak in his outstretched hand.

Harry shrugged it on and strode towards the lift, the eager wizard keeping step beside him.

"No problem Mr. Potter." He said, keeping his tone professional, but his expression betraying the glee he felt at working with one of the most famed wizards of all time.

"Jason, you know I've said that Harry's fine." He said almost exasperatedly, it being the fifteenth time this week he had had to remind his colleagues. "We work together. No need to be so formal." 

"I know, it just feels strange." Dewlort smiled ruefully, which Harry returned.

 

They reached the lift, and the golden grilles slid apart with a clang. The pair stepped into the box, accompanied only by a few memos rushing around their heads. Harry pushed the button for the ground floor, and with a shudder, the lift began its journey.

"Oh, did you hear, Amanda Werthers replacement is meant to be arriving today." Dewlort said conversationally.

"Really? That was quick." Harry mused. Amanda had only handed in her retirement form last week, and Healers for the ministry were notoriously hard to come by, most of them preferring St.Mungos to a dreary ministry life spent healing clumsy employees. And the often gruesome injuries of the Aurors.

"Yeah. I'm not sure who it is, but Josie in the Employee Services department told me that they've been trying to get a job for months." He jumped as the lift suddenly came to a jolting stop, and golden light from Atrium filtered in.

"I thought St.Mungos were always on the lookout for more Healers." Harry wondered aloud, gazing at the restored Atrium. It was a far cry from Voldemort's days, but still different from the ministry of old.

The grisly statues of the witch and wizard were gone, and in their place was a monument, not unlike the golden fountain that was there before.  
It depicted golden statues of magical folk of all kinds stood in a ring, holding hands united. 

The gently bubbling pool had 'As Strong As We Are United' engraved around the golden edge, inlaid with silver outlined with obsidian.

 

"I think I heard that they tried to hire them, but there were complaints? Which seems a little strange, as he wouldn't have been hired if he wasn't competent enough." Jason said.

 

They continued through the crowded Atrium, using the fireplaces to get out from the ministry. They then apparated to the address Harry had on a crumpled piece of paper he had withdrawn from his pocket.

 

"So what exactly are we looking for?" Asked Dewlort, looking in distaste at the crumbling houses around him.

"Any traces of recent magic or human life." Harry replied automatically. It had become second nature to him now; sniffing out Death Eaters in hiding.

 

They had arrived in a street at edge of Manchester, one of the many places Voldemort and his supporters had completely desolated. Bricks and possessions from the ruined houses were strewn across the cracked tarmac, and determined weeds were attempting to reclaim the abandoned street.  
It looked as if it was once a nice place to live, the faded flowers drooping from trellises and fences, the overgrown lawns with rusting Volvos and BMWs stationed beside them told a story of a well off, content neighbourhood, laid to waste by Voldemort.

Unfortunately, these places often became congregation points for the Dark Lord's sympathisers, who revelled in the scenes of mass destruction. They wouldn't be much of a problem if some had not taken up the habit of hexing any unsuspecting muggles or wizards who opposed their 'great cause'.

So it had fallen to the Aurors to hunt down these communities, which was what Harry and Jason were doing at that moment.

 

In a well practiced fashion, they started casting charms to detect magic traces and peering in the shattered windows.  
They came to a house with a peeling red door, and a mostly intact roof. Jason walked around the back, while Harry tentatively pushed the slightly rotting door open.  
A creak sounded from upstairs, followed by shuffling.

"Homenum Revelio." Harry whispered, feeling the charm whoosh over his head. It alerted him to a number of people in the house, some of which were upstairs, and some were making their way to the back of the house.

Harry cursed, turning and running as quietly as he could towards Dewlort.

 

He was too late.

 

A cloaked figure brandished their wand, standing over the crumpled form of Jason Dewlort. A spell aimed from an upstairs window blasted Harry to the floor, where he got a mouthful of dirt and his cheek sliced open by a large sharp stone.

Aiming to buy some time, he grasped the stone, throwing it through the window the spell had originated from, and advanced towards the cloaked figure.  
More curses came at him, and Harry deftly repelled them all, but there were too many to be able to return in kind.  
He managed to aim a full body bind at the unknown dueller, who dropped to the ground, stiff as a board. Harry knew he didn't have much time before the other duellers from the house came, so he lept forwards to grasp the unconscious Dewlort's arm, trying to twist into thin air.

At the last second, a figure with bright auburn hair burst from the back door brandishing her wand, a scarlet jet of light seemed to almost seek Harry out, red hot pain erupting in his side, singeing his robes and splitting his skin.

Before he knew it, the dilapidated houses were gone, replaced by the cold stone flagstones of the emergency Ministry entrance. Harry heaved himself to his feet to drag Dewlort through the doors where the Healers department was stationed.  
His side was in agony, spasms creeping through his body, and he knew it wouldn't be long before he collapsed.

"Help!" Harry shouted, desperation laced through his strangled voice.

Blood trailed behind the pair, originating from the gash in Harry's side, and somewhere from Jason's body. His leg was also twisted at an unnatural angle.  
Harry just hoped that the Healers could help him. He hadn't been able to check for a pulse yet, too intent on reaching the medics.

"Help us!" He saw figures rush from their rooms, towards them, towards a Harry who was swaying on his feet.  
Just in time, one of them managed to catch Harry before he slumped to the hard stone floor, and black overtook his vision.

 

/////

 

A cold shock in his side roused Harry, and his eyes cracked open, to be met with the light space of the Healers quarters.

 

He became aware of three things consecutively.

One, the room was full of people, most of them gazing anxiously down at him, only some of whom he recognised.

Two, gentle fingers were prodding his side, and he could feel his skin begin to knit together.

Three, he recognised the person who was carefully mending his torn side.

 

"Malfoy!" He exclaimed, slightly embarrassed to hear his voice so weak. Was he hallucinating? Why would Draco Malfoy, of all people, be healing him?

The pale blond head turned to look at him, grey eyes meeting his.

"Potter. Stay still, or I shall have to start the healing process all over again." He responded curtly, concentrating on the wound once again, as though Harry was of no interest to him.

"But- Mal- What are you doing here?!" Harry spluttered, looking from Malfoy, to his wound, to all of the concerned people in the room, most of whom he now realised were Healers.

 

One of the many white robed Healers stepped forward.  
"He's Amanda's replacement." Barbara McClintock, the head Healer, said, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder, soothing him somewhat. "And it was incredibly lucky that he started today, otherwise that wound would've taken a lot longer to heal. None of us have encountered that particular curse before, but luckily Draco could identify and heal it immediately."

 

Harry gazed at Malfoy in shock, who was absorbed in his work once again, muttering enchantments while tracing patterns on Harry's skin with his wand. Now, the information that Jason had told him earlier, about the new Healer being kicked out of St.Mungos, made sense. The vast majority of the population did not particularly like Malfoy at the moment, whatever side of the war they were on. Malfoy was a traitor to the dark side, and an untrustworthy intruder to everyone else. It was no wonder people complained about Malfoy being a healer at St. Mungos.

However, Harry was not completely inclined to distrust Malfoy. Through Voldemort's eyes, Harry had seen the torture Malfoy had gone through, the small mercies and extra food he gave to their captives. In fact, Harry had testified at Malfoys trial, to let him be allowed to walk semi-free. 

Well, freer than the rest of the convicted Death Eaters. Because of Malfoys age, disagreement with the Dark Lord's beliefs, and Harry's and a few others testimonies, he had been let off with a month in Azkaban, and been made to complete his seventh year at Hogwarts, where he was under close supervision.

 

"And how is Dewlort?" Harry questioned, snapping out of the almost trance he had been in, suddenly remembering his injured coworker.

"Nothing too bad." Barbara answered. "A mild concussion and his leg is broken in a couple of places, but he'll be as good as new in an hour or two."

 

Harry sighed with relief. Ever since so many people had sacrificed themselves for him in the Battle of Hogwarts, he had done his best to protect everybody he could, which was a big part of the reason that he became an Auror.

At first, he wasn't sure if he could take it, years of more conflict, being in constant danger. But then he decided that he was in danger anyway, and he might as well learn how to properly protect himself and others.

 

"Done." Malfoy stood, pulling the white sheet further up Harry's bare chest, and pocketing his wand.

"Well done Draco!" Barbara beamed at the wizard, but Harry noticed she was the only one to do so. The rest of the Healers looked at Malfoy with mistrust, some of them trying to look at where the wound had been, as though they expected Malfoy to have made it worse, not to have healed it perfectly.

 

"Thanks." Harry said, moving to sit up.

"No!" Two voices shouted, and a pair of hands shot out to push Harry down again.

"No, you dimwitted Horklump!" Malfoy said, moving away from Harry. "With a dark curse like this, you need to rest for a while after it's been healed, just to make sure there are no after effects. I would've thought that an idiot like yourself has gotten injured often enough to know that." He explained, seeming to enjoy being able to tell Harry what to do.

"But I have loads to stuff to do!" Harry grumbled. "I need to assemble a bigger team and get back to Manchester before they run off!"

"You are not going anywhere." Barbara said in an unusually firm voice. "Draco is right, and you certainly cannot go chasing dark wizards immediately after an injury like that."  
Harry sighed, but stayed put. There was no arguing with Barbara over things like this. She would take the issue to the minister for magic if she had to.

 

After assuring herself that Malfoy was going to make sure Harry got lots of rest, she collected her things, and headed out the door, the crowd of Healers following. Harry lay in silence for the next few minutes, listening to Malfoy move around the room.

It was light and airy as all Healer rooms were, with tall oak shelves and covering one wall, half filled with books about various medicines and methods of healing, and half filled with jars and boxes of potion ingredients.  
A large desk stood in front of the shelves, a cardboard box filled with more books, and a cauldron, sat on it. Malfoy appeared to be unpacking this, sorting the books into neat piles. Harry supposed that this was what Malfoy was doing before he burst in, bleeding all over the place.

 

"Can I get up now?" Harry complained, bored.

"It's only been a few minutes Potter." Draco replied, a trace of mirth in his voice.

"Can I at least sit up?" Harry asked, exasperated. "I hate lying flat on my back like this." He grumbled, glaring at Malfoy's back.

Malfoy paused.  
"I suppose you could sit on my sofa over there." He gestured to an incredibly comfy looking three seater sofa that Harry hadn't been able to see from his vantage point. "Just wait for me to help you over."

"At last." Harry muttered, completely disregarding the second sentence and sitting up with a groan. How weak did Malfoy think he was?

"Wait! Merlin, do you not listen to a single thing?" Malfoy rushed over, just in time to catch Harry for the second time that day, as Harry had been caught by an unexpected dizziness, and toppled over the side of the hospital-style bed.

"You should probably lie down again." Malfoy suggested, trying to push Harry down.

"No." Harry insisted, trying to walk over to the sofa again, but Malfoy stopped him.

"Okay, just let me help you. I'm not letting you ruin the first day of my job, just because you couldn't sit still and reopened your wound."

Grudgingly, Harry agreed, letting Malfoy help him over in an awkward waddling fashion, and dragging the sheet behind him.

 

When he was settled, Harry realised that his cloak and wand were nowhere to be seen. In fact, the only item of his he could see, was the trousers he had been wearing under his robes, which, thankfully, he was still wearing. The same couldn't be said for his shirt.

"Hey Malfoy. Where's all my stuff?" Harry asked.

Malfoy reached behind the desk, bringing back a bundle of singed robes, and Harry's wand.

"Your robes are pretty much beyond repair. Even if you used repairo, they still wouldn't be the same." Malfoy said, dumping the pile unceremoniously on Harry's lap, and returning to his unpacking.

 

Harry pouted. He particularly liked these robes, and wasn't sure if Madam Maldkins still stocked them.

After checking his wand was ok, and examining the burnt hole in the robes, he wriggled on the sofa until he was lying down, but his head was propped up by the cushiony sofa arm. Malfoy glared at him for moving so much, and Harry rolled his eyes.

He tried shutting his eyes to sleep, but he didn't feel tired in the slightest. Plus he wasn't looking to experience another terrifying nightmare after being so badly injured.  
"Malfoy." No answer. "Malfoy." He tried again. "Hey Malfoy!" 

"What, Potter?!" Malfoy whipped around, clearly annoyed.

"Why do you get such a comfy sofa?" This time it was Malfoy's turn to roll his eyes. "No, seriously" Harry continued "Its basically heaven. It's like lying in a cloud. It is most definitely the comfiest sofa my arse has ever had the pleasure of touching."

At this, Malfoy actually cracked a grin.

"Maybe it's because I deserve it. Because I actually get work done." He jibed, and Harry scoffed.

"You've been working here one day." 

"In which you have succeeded in injuring yourself and letting some Death Eaters escape, and I have quite possibly saved your life." Malfoy smirked.

"Whatever." Harry paused. "How long do I have to stay here?"

"Until I deem you fit enough." 

"I am definitely fit enough." Harry protested. "I mean, you've seen me shirtless."

"You know that's not what I mean." Malfoy said, still emptying his box.

"But you're not denying it." A cheeky grin had slid onto Harry's face. Malfoy just sighed, exasperated. 

"Seriously though, how long will that take? Minutes? Hours?" 

"I don't think I could stand hours of being trapped in here with you." Malfoy said, his face completely serious.

"Only because you're devastatingly attracted to me." 

"The thought of finding you even acceptable makes me want to projectile vomit."

"Sure. But can you at least tell my boss where I am? She's Lise Meitner."

"I know who the head of the Auror department is Potter." Draco scoffed, but grabbed a memo anyway, quickly scrawling a note, then letting it zoom out of the room.

 

Harry watched Malfoy organise his things for a while longer, until he got bored.

He looked around for something to do, and started tapping his wand on the floor, causing gold sparks to erupt from the end. Once he had got the rhythm right, Harry started whistling along to the tune of one of Mrs Weasley's favourite Celestina Warbeck tunes, which also happened to be one of the most annoying songs he knew.

On his third loop of the song, Malfoy growled in frustration.

"Merlin, Potter can you shut up!" He burst out. Harry was not a particularly good whistler.

"But I'm bored!" Harry complained. "I don't know what you do in your free time, but my idea of fun is not watching you unpack a load of old books! Can you please just let me go?"

Malfoy looked like he was about to shout something rude, but instead shut his eyes and took a deep breath, reigning his anger in.  
"I just want to make a good impression on my first day, so can you please, please, just do as I say? Do you have any idea how hard it was to get this job?" He said quietly.

"Okay. I'm sorry." Harry apologised sincerely. "I'm just antsy because I feel like I should be out tracking those Death Eaters, not stuck in here."

"They probably left the moment you disapparated." Malfoy said, and Harry was not sure if he meant it to comfort or emphasise the futility of his mission. They sat in silence for a while longer, Malfoy almost finished with his packing away.

"So. What is your idea of fun?" Malfoy asked out of the blue.

"What?" Asked Harry, nonplussed.

"Earlier you said that this wasn't your idea of fun. So what is?" He repeated, carefully avoiding Harry's eyes.

"Uh..." Harry trailed off. The truth was that he had spent so much time devoted to his work recently, that in the little time off he had, he was so exhausted, he just slept. Harry realised that he missed the feel of soaring through the sky on his broomstick. He missed laughing with his friends. He missed everything he used to do in his spare time.

"Quidditch? But I have a feeling you won't let me play right now." Harry said, and Draco nodded.

"Um, I like going out with my friends. Though I haven't seen much of them recently." He said in a small voice. "Everyone lives too far away. Ron and Hermione are visiting Hermione's parents in Australia, Luna's travelling, Neville is teaching at Hogwarts and Ginny is busy with quidditch in Wales." He added in answer to Malfoy's questioning look.

Malfoy nodded, not pursuing the subject any further.

 

"Why a healer?" Harry asked, breaking the silence. Malfoy looked at him, as though he was deciding what to say, and Harry almost thought he wasn't going to say anything, when he opened his mouth.

"Well I've always liked potions, and that's a big part of the job." He paused. "I think I wanted to help people. To try and make up for what me and my family did. Maybe to prove that I wasn't as bad as they all think I am." He finished, almost whispering. Malfoy looked shocked, like he couldn't believe he was telling Harry this.

Harry was just about to reply, not entirely sure what he would say, when Malfoy stood up.

"I'm going to find Madame McClintock." He blurted out suddenly. "See if she thinks you're ok to go." And Malfoy strode out from the room.

When Barbara returned, she decreed him healed enough to leave, but warned him from any strenuous activity in the next few days.

"And that most definitely includes hunting down dangerous wizards." She said, a knowing glint in her eye. "Draco, can you find him some robes or a shirt or something?" He nodded, and she left the room, smiling at them both.

Malfoy rummaged in a recently packed draw, withdrawing a black cloak that Harry immediately shrugged on. It was slightly tight around his muscles, but otherwise fit fine.

 

"Thank you." Harry said from by the door.

"With your record, I'm sure I'll see you again soon." Malfoy smirked, and Harry rolled his eyes before walking out the door.

 

Over the next few days, Harry was confined to desk duty, forcing him to start on his mountain of paperwork, although he kept getting interrupted by worried people asking if he was ok after his injury, and if there was anything they could do for him.

It was nice that they cared, Harry thought, but they didn't actually care. Not like Ron and Hermione did. They only cared about The Boy Who Lived. Not Harry.

Delwort was the worst. He was constantly apologising, believing that it has his fault Harry was hurt.

 

"Potter!" A commanding voice barked, and Harry's head snapped up from the files he was organising.

Lise Meitner strode towards his desk brandishing large photos of dark witches and wizards, her strong figure exuding power. It was no wonder she was head of the Auror department, she had a knack for commanding people.

"I want you to work with Jemison and Delwort to catch these people. We believe they are the ones you lost last week." She slammed the photos on top of his paperwork. "And try to get Delwort's confidence up. He's been trying to resign, but I will not let talent like that go to waste." She added in a whisper. Although Lise was fearsome, she wanted the best for her employees.

"Of course Auror Meitner." Harry said, getting up to find Jemison and Delwort.

 

"Hey, Mae." He sat on a spare chair by Mae Jemison's desk. "Meitner wants us and Delwort to track these guys down." 

It made sense that Meitner would choose Mae to help, although her duelling skills weren't the best, no one else could use location and tracking spells like Mae. She was even talented with Muggle tracking techniques, once following a pair of wizards who were using advanced anti-tracking spells for three days, before catching them.  
Mae nodded, and studied the photos. Harry could almost see her brain whirring, coming up with spells and methods to track them.  
And she only called him Mr Potter twice, a new record for her.

Harry thought he could understand why they all seemed so in awe of him; they had heard about him ever since they were babies, and he had defeated the greatest dark wizard of all time, but he had thought that after nearly a year of working together, they would've realised he wasn't The Great Harry Potter, and was just Harry. But not much luck so far.

 

After telling Delwort about the case, in which Harry had to talk down his intentions of resigning about three times, the bell rang to signal the end of the day shift, allowing most of the workers to go home, including Harry.

He made his way to the apparition point, appearing just inside his front door, not thinking he could withstand the London traffic today.

Walking into his open plan living room/dining room/kitchen, and collapsed onto his sofa with a sigh.  
His house was calmly decorated with muted tones, joined by the odd splash of bright yellow. The walls were a light grey, and all the furniture made out of a light beech wood, a large contrast to the decor of No. 12 Grimmaud Place.

 

Although he still owned his godfathers house, Harry did not like living there. It brought back too many memories of Sirius, and all the other people he had lost. Sometimes when friends came to London to visit, they stayed there, since Harry's flat only had one bedroom. But otherwise, he rarely visited, leaving the house to collect dust. 

 

The soft pad of paws approached and a large, fluffy grey cat by the name of Nettie, jumped on his chest, purring all the while.

"Hey Nettie." Harry smiled, running his hands through her soft fur, and she began to play with his hair.

After leaving Hogwarts (for they had all chosen to attend eighth year to make up for not being there in the seventh), all his friends began to part ways, some travelling, some simply moving away. This left Harry with very few friends nearby, so, just before they left for Australia, Ron and Hermione bought him a kitten.

Harry thought it was a guilt present, guilt for leaving him. But he wasn't bitter about it. He understood that the two of them needed time alone together, and Hermione desperately wanted to visit her parents and undo her spells.  
And then, once out there, they got offered an amazing opportunity to be foreign ambassadors for the ministry, quite a high up position. But it meant they were barely home.

He was glad he did have Nettie, because although he also had a tawny owl, Barry (inventively named by Ginny), he was rather standoffish, not affectionate in the slightest, unlike Hedwig had been.

 

After a while of Harry nearly dozing off, the flutter of wings was heard, and a tugging started on Harry's hair.

"Alright, alright. I'll make dinner." Harry sighed, getting up and glaring at the owl perched on the sofa arm.

Barry would not eat ordinary owl pellets, seeming to deem them beneath him. And although he could quite easily catch some of Londons plentiful rodents (and proving it by leaving them in Harry's bed) he never ate them, choosing to instead steal Harry's food. Even though it was incredibly annoying having to cook for an impatient owl every night, Harry was secretly grateful, as without Barry, he would probably forget to cook, he was so tired most nights.

 

Once they had all finished eating, Harry washed up, and got in bed, sinking into the mattress and almost immediately falling asleep.

A few hours later, he was awake, screaming at the ceiling, after a particularly harrowing dream about Voldemort forcing Harry to watch him brutally murder all his friends.

 

He knew there were potions to induce a dreamless sleep, and he'd tried most of them, without much effect. The best working one had given him a dreamless sleep, but with nasty side affects of killer headaches, and constantly feeling tired, however much sleep he'd had the night before.

Harry forced himself to sleep again, even though he was petrified of another nightmare occurring.

 

 

The next few days passed in much the same fashion; unsuccessfully trying to track death eaters, paperwork, then a lonely dinner with a haughty owl, followed by constant nightmares. 

 

At least, until Mae found them.

"I've got them, I've got them!" She shouted, dancing round her desk.

"Well done Mae!" Harry grinned, as Delwort engulfed her in a hug. "Let's get going!" He said, and they all grabbed their things, heading towards the lift.

"I think this group is one of the higher ranking ones. The curse they used on you isn't something anyone would know." Mae briefed them, and Harry and Jason nodded seriously. "Also, it looks like they've been heading north on foot, probably because they know we are monitoring the apparition and floo networks. You two saw them in Manchester, we got a sighting of them in Leeds, now they're in Middlesbrough." Harry and Delwort exchanged worried glances. They could all guess where they were headed.  
The only place of wizarding importance that far north was Hogwarts.

 

The street that the trio apparated into was much like the deserted one in Manchester, although the houses seemed even more wrecked.

"Homenum revelio." Mae whispered, and the presence of a small group of people was revealed. They appeared to be grouped in the house most intact, a medium sized, red brick affair, with ivy climbing the walls, and a buddleia bush sprouting from a gaping hole in the side of the wall.

 

Harry gestured for Mae and Jason to follow him towards the front door, and they crept inside, cringing with every creak of worn wood.

Warily, they peeked around corners and into empty rooms, finding nothing but overturned furniture and a nest of rats.

Once they had checked every room downstairs, they ventured up the stairs, which were dangerously rotting.  
Harry could hear his heart thumping in his chest, and was sure the others hearts were just as frantic. No matter how many times you did this, it was no less terrifying, as there was never the guarantee it would turn out okay. Anything could go wrong.

Straining their ears, they heard muttered voices coming from the room directly across from the stairs. The three crept towards it, wands at the ready.  
Jason nudged the door open slightly with his toe, and burst through, firing stunning spells in every direction.

Harry and Mae were close behind, aiming more stunning spells at the Death Eaters that Jason had not hit, however the remaining witches and wizards evidently had a lot of duelling experience, and ten against three wasn't exactly fair, Harry thought.

A large blond that looked remarkably similar to Dolohov was the first to fall, crumpling to the ground with a well placed full body bind by Jason.

One by one, the Death Eaters fell, until only a skinny redhead witch and a brunette with a rather spectacular handlebar moustache were left standing. They fired jinx after curse, one of which Harry recognised to be the fiery blade that had struck him last time. He was especially careful to dodge that particular curse. 

All of a sudden, Mae was hit by a jinx that seemed to freeze her arms and knock her off her feet, making her stumble backwards towards the stairs.

"Mae!" Jason and Harry shouted in unison, as Mae let out a panicked scream, and fell through the rotting stairs.

The pair continued duelling with renewed fury, determined to get to Mae.  
The moustached wizard was trussed up with ropes that wound, snake like, around his body, leaving him unable to cast a spell. The skinny witch threw a panicked look at her companion, knowing that there was very little chance she could avoid being jinxed herself.

Muttering a quick protego, she turned and leaped through the shattered window, presumably using a cushioning charm to break her fall.

 

"Shit." Harry swore, undoing the shield charm. He knew there was no use chasing her, she would be long gone by now. 

 

He pointed his wand at the rope, causing it to bind every immobile Death Eater in the room together, ready for when they were transported to Azkaban later.

Confident it would hold, they hurried towards the hole in the stairs, peering down at Mae's figure at the bottom.

"I think I've broken something." She said weakly, looking at her twisted limbs. "Scratch that, I think I've broken a lot of things." And with that, she rested her head on the debris, and closed her eyes.

 

Harry and Jason managed to reach her, and after confirming that she was only unconscious, carefully apparated back to the ministries Healers quarters.  
Healers swarmed the trio, levitating Mae into one of the treatment rooms, leaving a couple to check Harry and Jason over. Unfortunately, one of these was Malfoy and before Harry could head off with the other healer, Jason had followed her into a room, leaving Harry with Malfoy.

 

"I knew I'd be seeing you soon." He smirked.

"Look, I'm fine, I don't need checking over." Harry pleaded, not wanting to have to spend another hour in the Healers room.

"Fine my arse!" Malfoy exclaimed, pushing Harry towards his room. "Your face is covered with blood!" At this Harry gingerly reached up and prodded a rather sore patch on his temple, feeling a stabbing pain and bringing his hand away to see crimson blood coating his fingers.

"Ouch." He muttered, thinking back to how he got it. He remembered shards of glass flying from a window hit by a stray spell, but didn't recall being hit by any.  
Malfoy tried to direct Harry towards the uncomfortable hospital bed, but Harry protested.

"Can't I sit on your sofa?"

"No, Potter. You'll probably get blood all over it, and it's unprofessional." Malfoy said firmly.

"I'll clean the sofa if I do. And I'm not sitting on that bed, so I guess you will have to treat me stood up, which seems even more unprofessional." He argued, already heading towards the sofa.

"Fine." Malfoy grumbled, grabbing some sterile cloth and a small bowl of water from his desk, then joining Harry on the sofa.

Gently, he used a wet piece of cloth to wipe clean Harry's wound. His grey eyes studied it carefully, deciding what spell or ointment to use.

 

Harry fidgeted, tapping his foot against the polished grey stone floor.

"Stay still." Malfoy ordered, leaning closer, his eyes still fixed on the wound. "I think I can see some glass or something in here." He conjured a pair of tweezers and began removing the pieces. 

 

He was close enough for Harry to see the barely there scattering of freckles over his nose and every different shade of silvery-grey in his iris.

 

"There." He finished, finally seeming to realise how close he was to Harry. Quickly, he stood up, searching for something in the various cupboards. He returned with a tub of yellow paste, unscrewing the lid and smearing it over Harry's temple.  
"I would use a spell, but this has antibacterial properties, and will prevent an infection from any lingering dirt." He explained, leaning back and screwing the lid back on the tub.

 

"Thanks Malfoy. I'd better go check on Mae. She looked pretty bad." He said, and Malfoy nodded, letting him leave his office. Harry walked into the room Mae had disappeared into and saw her sleeping on another uncomfortable hospital bed, limbs back to normal.

 

"How is she?" Harry tentatively asked one of the Healers.

"She should be fine, with some rest. Luckily, it was nothing more serious than some broken bones." He answered, seemingly struggling to conceal a smile, though what was funny, Harry couldn't tell. "We're going to keep her asleep for a few hours, just to let her body fully recover." The healer added, realising that Harry probably wanted to talk to her.

"Okay. Thank you." He said, turning back to the door, and catching sight of his reflection in the window of the door.

"Merlin! What has Malfoy done to me?" He exclaimed, immediately seeing what was so funny.

The paste that Malfoy had smeared on seemed to have quadrupled in size, making it look as though Harry had some sort of strange yellow fungus growing out the side of his head.

 

Harry reached for the door handle just as Malfoy appeared on the other side of the door, walking in.

"Do you have the robes I-" Malfoy was cut off by Harry furiously pointing at the large yellow growth protruding from his temple.

"How can I go back up to work like this, Malfoy?!" He demanded. "I'll be a laughing stock! Pictures will get into the Prophet!" Malfoy just stood, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

"Erm, it shouldn't have grown that much." He said worriedly, dragging Harry back into his office before anybody else could see his mistake.

Harry stood sullenly while Malfoy poked around at the lump, inspecting it.

"When can I take it off?" 

"It should just dissolve in half an hour. But since it's double the normal size, it will most likely take double the time." Malfoy answered, turning away and deliberately not looking at Harry, pretending to busy himself with something in his desk.

"An hour!" Harry nearly shouted. "Is it your personal mission to disrupt my work or something?"

"You could still go up..." Malfoy trailed off, noticing the glare Harry was directing at him. An awkward silence ensued, while Harry paced and Malfoy thought.

"I could go and get whatever work you need, and you could do it in here?" Malfoy tentatively suggested, and Harry looked up at him thoughtfully.

"Yeah. Yeah, that would work." He immediately calmed down.

"Okay, just tell me what you need." And Harry launched into a long description of where to find his open case files.

"Also, in the bottom left drawer of my desk is your robes. They're washed and everything." Harry added, to which Malfoy nodded, exiting the room.

 

Harry stood up, taking the opportunity to examine the large shelves, taking in the vast amount of books, which were mainly about potions, but there were also a few volumes about harmful curses and their cures, and medicinal plants.

 

His head snapped up as Malfoy burst through the door, carrying a large box of files, which Harry immediately took from him, checking everything was in there and thanking him.

 

"Meitner thought I was looking through classified records at first." Malfoy grumbled. "But when I told her that you were unable to leave the Healers quarters, so sent me to fetch your work, she believed me. 'Mr Potter is an incredibly dedicated young man.'" He mimicked. "Seriously Potter, do you ever take a break?" He asked incredulously, and Harry shrugged, flicking through a file. 

 

They sat in silence, working until Harry's bright yellow growth had almost gone.

 

"I've got so much work done!" Harry exclaimed, looking at the large pile of completed paperwork. "It must be because I don't have people interrupting me every two seconds." He mused, to which Malfoy looked up.

"Well they all want a bit of the scrawny git, don't they." He drawled, turning back to his own paperwork.  
Harry smiled. Although it was a bit weird, Harry decided he might actually kind of like Malfoy being a twat. It was incredibly refreshing after having months of people almost worshipping him, never wanting to upset him. Having someone who didn't tiptoe around him, who didn't find any problem with mercilessly insulting him, was actually pretty great.

 

They carried on working long after the lump had gone, finding a comfortable kind of silence, filled only by the scratching of quills and rustling of paper.

Suddenly a memo came whizzing in, gliding smoothly onto Malfoy's desk.

"I've got a patient now. Someone managed to impale themselves with a quill." He said, almost exasperated. "The amount of injuries I get like that. I don't know if you want to stay or not?" He looked at Harry questioningly.

"I'd better get back up there anyway." He said reluctantly gathering his stuff. "Thanks for letting me stay here for a bit."

 

He trudged up the stairs, pushing open the heavy wooden doors 

"Harry!" Jason jumped up, rushing from his desk towards him "We got them all! When we came back, Meitner sent another team to get them all to Azkaban, so it's all okay!" He said excitedly.

"Not all of them." Harry said sadly. "Do you remember the skinny ginger witch?" He asked, and Jason nodded "She got away. And I'm pretty sure she was the one who hit me with that curse last time."

"Don't worry." He said after a long pause. "We'll get her. And you can do anything! You're Harry Potter!" Jason said, going back to sit at his desk.

"It doesn't quite work that way." Harry muttered, setting the large box on his desk.


	2. 2

It had been a particularly gruelling day for several reasons.

For one, reporters had harassed him all the way into work, as he'd thought it would be a nice day to walk. Never doing that again.

Two, nobody seemed to be able to leave him alone. Every few seconds there was someone else wanting his attention, wanting to know how his latest mission was going, wondering if they could help. Harry knew they didn't mean to be rude, quite the opposite actually, but it was really driving him up the wall.

Three, his latest mission was not going well. The latest batch of Death Eaters to have appeared on Mae's radar seemed to be very skilled in tidying up after themselves. It was proving to be extremely difficult to catch them in the act, or even find substantial evidence afterwards.

 

Harry sighed. It was practically pointless going over the file again. He'd been over every bit of information at least ten times, and was getting nowhere.

He stood up.

 

"Where're you going, Sir?" Jason asked, looking worried.

"Nowhere in particular. Just a walk around to clear my head." 

"Oh, I'll come with y-" Jason rushed out, excited.

"No it's fine, Jason. I just want to be alone for a bit, you know? Thank you anyway." Harry quickly interrupted. As much as he liked Jason, he didn't want another walk filled with Jason gushing about him. Harry would've thought that he'd run out of things to gush about by now, but unfortunately, Jason hadn't. Not by a long shot.

"Yes, of course. Sorry sir." He sat down, looking slightly crestfallen.

"It's ok. And remember, it's just Harry." He said with a smile, grabbing his file, just in case inspiration struck.

 

He wandered around, heading in the general direction of the atrium for a while, but it was all so busy, everyone rushing to where they needed to be, and was doing nothing to help his head. In fact, it was probably making it worse.

Where could he go? Everywhere was packed full of busy people doing work, which wasn't quite the relaxing atmosphere he wanted.

A few months ago, he probably would've headed straight down to the gardens, right down on the bottom floor. They were rooms enchanted to look like beautiful flower gardens, with lush green grass stretched out between each flower bed. There was also a wild flower meadow, that bloomed with gorgeous colour all year round.

It was originally created as a nice place for employees to take a break, and relax, however it had been taken over by couples, and it was almost sickening, walking past each flowerbed which contained a couple rolling around in the dirt, crushing the flowers.

Instead, he thought of an extremely comfy sofa, belonging to someone who did not seem overly impressed, or even interested in Harry. The perfect place to go to get a quiet few minutes.

But would Malfoy think it strange, Harry voluntarily choosing to spend time with his old rival?

Sod it, Harry thought. He didn't care. He needed to get this work done, and the only place where he even had the slightest chance of doing it, was in Malfoy's office, as weird as that seemed.

So he made his way down there, into the white corridors, and stopped in front of a particular old oak door.

Harry raised a fist, preparing to knock. 

Would Malfoy kick him out?

He steeled himself, lowering his fist, when a voice rang out.

"Potter? What are you doing outside my door? Not another injury I hope." 

Harry swung around to see Malfoy stood behind him, his arms crossed and staring at Harry with distain.

"No, I um-" he said, caught off guard by Malfoy's sudden appearance.

"Well? What do you want, Potter?" Malfoy demanded.

"I, uh, can't work at my desk. Everyone keeps talking to me and it's getting too distracting, and I really, really, need to get this sorted soon." Harry kept his eyes fixed on the bit of wall over Malfoy's left shoulder.

"And? What am I supposed to do about your lack of work ethic?" He asked, pushing past Harry to get to the door.

"I was wondering if I could sit in your office and work?" Harry asked sheepishly. "I got loads done last time."

Malfoy sighed in resignation.

"Fine, Potter. Just don't distract me from mine." He opened the door, his sapphire blue robes sweeping through after him, like gentle waves at the beach.

"Thank you Malfoy." Harry said sincerely, and took a seat on the squashy sofa. He looked around the room, noticing the additions of a few plants scattered around the room.

"Nice plants." Harry said conversationally.

"Yes, they were a 'congratulations, you managed to hold a job for a week' gift from Luna. Grown by Professor Longbottom, apparently." Malfoy said, rolling his eyes, but a smile twitched the corners of his mouth anyway.

"You, are friends with Luna and Neville?!" Harry spluttered incredulously, lifting his eyes from his work to stare at Malfoy in wonder.

"Not so much Neville, it's more by association with Luna. She was one of the only people that bothered to have a proper conversation with me in eighth year." He fixed Harry with a piercing, almost Dumbledoor-ish, look. "And since I am in regular correspondence with Luna, she has told me that you have been ignoring her letters. So it's not just because your friends are away that you are lonely. You're forcing yourself into isolation. Luna is very hurt and upset about it all."

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat, a red blush creeping over his face.

"It's not that I- that I don't want to talk to Luna, it's just..." he trailed off embarrassedly, not being able to find the right words.

"You must have a good reason for ignoring one of your closest friends letters." Malfoy insisted from behind his desk.

"It just seems so stupid." Harry paused and took his glasses off, rubbing his face with his hand, then replacing them. "Lots of people I've gotten close to are dead now. Because of me. And I don't want that to happen to Luna, or anyone else." He got out, wringing his hands together.

"You're right. It is stupid. People died because there was a war on, a war that they chose to participate in for their own reasons, and would've happened sooner or later anyway without you. And, some of the people you're closest to, Granger and Weasley for example, are still alive and good, are they not?"

"Yeah..." Harry admitted unwillingly.

"Well, I demand you write to Luna with an apology. Right now." He said, ignoring Harry's glare. "Here's some paper and a quill you can use." Malfoy pushed an ink pot and writing set to the edge of his desk, then resumed his work without even looking up to see Harry's response.

"Fine." Harry huffed, snatching the stationary and beginning to write.

As he wrote, Harry thought deeply as well. Since when had Malfoy been that concerned about a friend? He truly had changed. Or maybe it was Luna's strong, but generally innocent personality that drove Malfoy to protect her?

 

His quill scratched over the parchment, and Harry chuckled at Malfoy's old-fashioned ways. The majority of the ministry, and indeed, the wizarding world had moved on from traditional quills, to Muggle pens, obviously with a few enchantments added, like Mr. Smethywick's endless-ink ballpoint pen. Of course, many wizards still used self inking quills, but only the minority used the more traditional one. Naturally, Malfoy was one of the old-fashioned minority.

"Done." Harry said, waving the letter at Malfoy. "Happy?"

"Very." Malfoy said mildly. "Make sure you get around to owling it quickly."

 

Harry rolled his eyes. "Now I've got actual work to do." He groaned, opening his folder, and rereading the pages for the umpteenth time, sighing as he did so.

"What is all that sighing about?!" Malfoy looked annoyed. "It's very off-putting."

"Sorry... it's just I can't seem to find a way to find these death eaters. They're practically untraceable." Harry sighed, yet again, putting his head in his hands.

Malfoy perked up.

"Untraceable, did you say? Could I take a look?"

"Sure." Harry shrugged and leaned over, passing the file to Malfoy. "It might help to get a different perspective." He said as Malfoy scanned each page quickly.

"Yep. Has all the symptoms of a type of concealing spell the death eaters developed. If it's the same variation that I know, you just need to brew the right potion, then dip a muggle compass in it, and it will point you to the nearest person using the spell."

"Thanks Malfoy! Do you know how to brew it?" Harry asked, relief evident on his face. Finally, he'd be able to catch those death eaters!

"I've not brewed it myself, but I have the instructions, and I've seen it done."

"Would you be able to come up to the Auror department, and help us? Please?" Harry pleaded hopefully.

Malfoy sighed, shuffling the papers into a neat pile, then inserting them back into the file carefully.  
"You do know I have work down here to do? I can't just up and leave to the Auror department."

"C'mon, we need an experienced potion brewer, who's seen the potion brewed before. I'll talk to Barbara about it as well, I'm sure she wouldn't mind." Malfoy still looked on the fence about it. 

"How low have I gotten, begging a Malfoy." Harry muttered, and Malfoy snorted.

"You'll have to do better than that Potter." He said, fighting a smile from appearing on his pale lips. "Malfoy's only tolerate the best, and that includes begging."  
Harry rolled his eyes, and grudgingly knelt down in-front of Malfoy's desk.

"Malfoy, /please/ will you help us with the potion." Harry said sarcastically.

"Try a little harder." By now, Malfoy was full on smirking, and Harry groaned.

"Draco Malfoy, master potioneer and almighty wizard, would you please be so gracious as to offer the Auror department your expert assistance in potion brewing?" Harry put on a ridiculously posh voice, laughing.

"Hmmmmm... no." Malfoy chuckled.

"Right, that's it! I'm going to McClintock. There's no way you're getting out of this, Malfoy." Harry stood up and went to storm out of the room.

"Potter, relax, I was only joking! But you will have to clear it with McClintock first, she is my boss after all."

"Fine." Harry grumbled, annoyed that Malfoy had gotten the better of him. "Let's go." He walked out of the door without a backwards look, and Malfoy reluctantly trailed after him towards the head ministry healers office.

 

——

 

Harry nudged the door open, not being able to knock with the heavy box in his arms. His gaze fell upon a sleeping figure sprawled out over the old sofa, pale blond hair messily arranged over the red cushions.

Malfoy's chest rose and fell steadily as Harry crept closer, carefully lowering the box to the ground. Harry's eyes roamed over Malfoy's face, his peaceful expression and slightly parted lips, the fluttering of his dark eyelashes and the way his cheek was squashed against the red fabric. Harry's heart beat a little oddly.

 

Suddenly, Malfoy jerked awake, eyes opening blearily.

"Merlin! How long have you been here Potter?" He jumped, scrambling to a sitting position, and hastily straightening his robes.

"Just got here. I didn't know you used the sofa too." Harry said with a soft smile.

"Yeah, well you're always hogging it, aren't you?" Malfoy retorted, still slightly flustered.

"If you'd asked, I'd've moved over a little. It is your sofa after all." He sat beside Malfoy to prove the point, dragging the heavy box behind him.

 

"What's in the box?" Malfoy nodded towards it.

"Potions stuff, I'm not entirely sure. You'll probably know." Harry answered vaguely, and Malfoy eagerly opened the box, revealing a large cauldron and variously shaped jars of ingredients.

They both leant forwards, pouring over the contents, their knees brushing.  
"I thought they wanted me to brew it in the Auror offices?" Malfoy inspected a dusty tear-drop shaped vial containing a single blue flower.

"I convinced them to let us do it in the potions department." Harry said sheepishly. "Also, after I explained how much better I work in here, they gave me permission to do some of my work in here. If it's ok with you."

"Yeah, sure" Malfoy replied distractedly, now reading a slightly crumpled sheet of paper, with what looked like each ingredient listed on it.

 

"Oh, they also said that we would have to collect some of the ingredients ourselves, some from apocatheries and some from like a forest or something. Wherever they grow in the wild." Harry remembered suddenly, wondering how long this thing would take. 

They needed to do it quickly, before the Death Eaters did anything else significantly dangerous. Harry wondered what their plan was. There was evidence that all the separate groups of death eaters they had captured had been slowly moving north, and the only major wizarding place past Liverpool was Hogwarts.

But the security there was incredibly high, every kind of ward imaginable, and at least 15 Aurors stationed there at all times. After the war, the Ministry made it one of their top priorities to protect Hogwarts better. Plus, nearly every teacher had proved themselves more than capable of defending Hogwarts.

 

A sharp jab in the side jolted him out of his thoughts.  
"We could go get the Giant Amphipod scales now, if you want. They're very rare, but I know someone who stocks them." Malfoy said, standing up, the list still clutched in his pale hand.

"Sure." Harry agreed, following Malfoy out the door, and towards the large fireplaces in the Atrium.

 

Once they stood outside the Ministry, Harry turned towards Malfoy.

"So where now? Diagon Alley?" He questioned, and Malfoy shook his head. 

"It's a small apothecary in the Lake District. They sell very specialist ingredients and potions, so aren't massively well known." Malfoy stuck his arm out in front of Harry. "Hold on."

"What?" 

"You don't know where we're going, so you won't be able to apparate yourself there." Malfoy rolled his eyes, and Harry gripped his arm, feeling a little stupid. 

"Also, just a warning, the owner can be a little... eccentric."

And with a pop, Harry was twisted into the horrible tube, feeling the bands squeezing his chest. He didn't think he'd ever be fully used to apparition.

 

They had landed on the side of a stony mountain, tough grasses springing out of the earth.  
The only sounds that could be heard were the distant bleats of sheep, and a faint breeze travelling over the ground and inbetween the plants. The sun was low in the sky, which was a dark grey colour that should have been foreboding, but instead seemed to wrap around them like a blanket.

In fact, the whole side of the mountain should have been seen as dreary and bleak, but instead seemed to give off an aura of rustic comfort, the cold winter air had no bite to it, and the barely-there drizzle was soft on their faces. 

 

Malfoy started to trudge towards a small outcropping of rock, and Harry took a large breath of the crisp air, and trailed after him, winding between boulders.

 

As they got closer, a soft golden glow seemed to be emitted from behind the outcropping, becoming stronger with every step.

When they rounded the rock covered with lichens, Harry saw a worn, old wooden door set into the rock, and two small circular windows on either side of it, which were filled with strange plants, from which the warm orangey light was spilling out of.

Without pausing, Malfoy stepped forwards and nudged the door open with a gentle creak. A battered silver bell gave a singe chime that seemed to echo around the room inside.

Tentatively, Harry followed Malfoy, entering a small cosy room, hewn from the mountain itself. Covering its walls were countless shelves, filled with plants of all descriptions. It appeared as if the walls were made of living plants, only small patches of grey stone peeling through gave it away.

"Neville would've loved it here." Harry said, gesturing towards the plants.

"He was actually the one who suggested this place to me. The owner is Professor Sprouts grandson, and friends with Neville." Malfoy said distractedly, tapping his foot and looking around impatiently.

Suddenly, a second wooden door at the back of the room cracked open, and a well-built man with wavy brown hair down to his middle back padded through, the sound of his bare feet muffled against the hand woven carpets of all colours that lay on the stone floor.

 

"Draco!" He exclaimed in a loud, Irish accent, his weathered face breaking into a warm smile as he rushed forwards, taking Malfoy's head in his hands and placing a kiss on his forehead.

To Harry's surprise, Malfoy returned the gesture, giving the strange man an easy smile.

 

"It's been too long! You should visit more often, or at least call!" 

"Sorry Ab, I've been meaning to stop by for a while, just haven't had a spare moment." Malfoy apologised, still smiling. Harry thought it was the longest he had seen Malfoy hold a genuine smile for years

"Who's this?" The man asked, peering around Malfoy, at Harry, who was dumbfounded by everything going on.

"Oh, Potter, meet Abner, Abner meet Harry Potter." Malfoy stepped back towards Harry, gesturing between them.

"So this is the Harry that Neville and Luna talk about so much? Nice to meet you." Abner strode forwards, and his large hands enveloped one of Harry's own, who smiled back at him, instantly feeling at ease with this strange man, who despite his strong stature, seemed inherently gentle. It was evident in every move he made, in the softness of his eyes and the way he warmly accepted Harry.

"You too." He replied.

"Sit down, take a seat!" Abner urged, ushering them towards a roughly carved wooden table, covered with notepads filled with rough sketches of plants and strange creatures. Others had complicated equations and lists of potion ingredients.

 

"I'll just put the kettle on, be back in a sec." He said, retreating back to wherever the door he came through lead.

"He's nice." Harry said, looking at Malfoy, who seemed familiar and comfortable in this cosy little cave, lit with glowing candles scattered around.

"Yeah." He mused, a light smile still resting on his lips. "I stayed here for a while after Hogwarts. It's nice to be back." 

 

"I've got some lemon and ginger tea, rooibos, and mint. Whichever you prefer." Abner came back in, three large teapots and three chipped mugs levitating in front of him.

They sat around the table for a while, Abner and Malfoy catching up on everything they had missed, Harry occasionally being drawn into the conversation as well, never feeling left out.

 

Harry learnt that Abner was a few years older than them, and came from a coven of witches and wizards in rural Ireland, where they had very different magical practices than they did in England, for example, Abner never went to Hogwarts and didn't use a wand for his magic.   
This, Harry found very surprising, as only a small amount of accomplished witches and wizards could use wandless magic successfully, but Abner explained that if you had never used a wand, it was easier to get the hang of.

 

"So what finally brought you here?" Abner questioned, running a hand through his long hair.

Malfoy explained their situation, spinning his now empty mug around in circles.

"Giant Amphipod scales..." Abner thought for a second, then nodded. "Yep, I've got a few of those in the back. How many?"

"About a kilo." Malfoy replied, and Abner gave them a thumbs up, walking back out the door.

When he returned, he had a brown paper bundle with him, which he gave to Harry, and Malfoy gave him 5 galleons from the Ministry.

 

They stayed for a little while longer, then left, with many large bear hugs and promises to visit more often.

When they stepped outside, the moon was steadily climbing up the foggy sky, pinpricks of thousands of stars softly shining through the thin cloud layer.

"We were in there longer than I thought." Harry stated, feeling the soft ground beneath his feet.

"Time always goes strangely around Ab." Malfoy replied, offering Harry his arm, which Harry gripped, even though he knew perfectly well how to apparate back to the Ministry.

 

—————  
—————


	3. 3

"I just find it weird that you're spending so much time with Malfoy. I mean, he was one of the Death Eaters. He still has a dark mark for Merlin's sake!" Mae argued, not meeting Harry's eyes, instead fiddling with some papers on her desk.

Harry wanted to punch something. It was so stupid, that he felt comfortable and safe with Malfoy. Mae was right. Malfoy used to be a fucking Death Eater for gods sake. Why was Harry even bothering to be near him?

He sighed.

"I know, Mae. It's just the way things turned out." Harry ran a hand through his thick hair. "But, I guess Dumbledore was always a big fan of second chances." Mae rolled her eyes and returned to her desk, leaving Harry full of doubts. He bent his head back down, concentrating on his paperwork.

 

Half an hour (and two sheets of work) later, a lilac memo came whizzing onto Harry's desk:

'Urgent. Come down to my office, I've got a sighting of a Graphorn. We need to leave immediately.  
-Draco'

Harry groaned. He didn't want to see Malfoy right now.

Grabbing his pen, Harry scrawled a quick sentence on the back:

'I'm busy, get it yourself.'

He folded it back up, and sent it back in the direction of the Healers offices.  
Harry knew that it would be very difficult for Malfoy, or anyone for that matter, to catch a Graphorn by himself, but he was still conflicted about the whole Malfoy situation. He knew he shouldn't really be spending so much time away from the Auror offices, but things were so much more peaceful down with Malfoy.   
Even now, there were Aurors shouting about some big bust that was happening today, throwing things between them, and just generally being loud.

Before Harry could have any more thoughts, another memo smoothly glided onto his desk:

'A Graphorn is not a one-man-job, Potter.   
-D"

Harry sighed, standing up, making sure to scrape his chair along the ground as he did so. He knew that if he did not come, Malfoy would probably be up here himself to drag Harry with him, and Harry didn't want to make a big deal about it.

The majority of the Auror department didn't know where Harry was going when he left. He wasn't really sure where they thought he went, but Harry supposed it didn't really matter. He just didn't really want them knowing, a lot of the Aurors had lost people to the Death Eaters, and even if they hadn't, still held bitter feelings towards them. Well, more than bitter, in a lot of cases.  
Harry had already heard groups of Aurors complaining about Malfoy being hired; they thought he was spying for the new order of Death Eaters, and they didn't trust him to properly look after him when he was injured.

Grabbing his travelling cloak and wand, Harry trudged down to the Healer offices.

 

When he pushed open the heavy wooden door, he was met with a pale, disgruntled face.

"Took you long enough." Malfoy drawled, swinging his own emerald green travelling cloak around his shoulders. "Right, we need to get going, or the Graphorn will have disappeared." He instructed, striding past Harry and out of the room.

They walked down the long corridors together, Malfoy marching ahead and Harry plodding behind.

"Catch up, will you?" Malfoy called impatiently, waiting for Harry at the Apparition point, to which Harry rolled his eyes, not speeding up in the slightest. Once Harry was within arms length, Malfoy reached out and grabbed Harry's arm, whirling them away, through the compressing darkness.

 

When Harry regained the ability to breathe, the woody, resiny smell of pine travelled up his nose, making him realise that they had arrived in a forest. The air was so cold that his breath hung in clouds in the air around his face. He shivered.

"You could've warned me to bring another jumper." Harry grumbled, looking up at the tall Scots Pine trees above him, as Malfoy snatched his hand from Harry's arm.

"Just do a warming spell." Malfoy rolled his eyes, muttering the incantation with the wand pointed at himself.

"I would've preferred a jumper." Harry argued, sullenly folding his arms.

"For fucks sake, what crawled up your arse and died?" Malfoy snapped, casting a warming charm on Harry himself, before stomping off along a narrow path winding through the trees.

 

Harry sighed, the warm, tingly feeling left by the charm making him regret his actions. Although Malfoy was a bit of a twat, and was also a former Death Eater (the very thing Harry was fighting against), he wasn't all bad, Harry supposed. And, maybe, just maybe, Harry quite enjoyed spending time in his office, and didn't want to lose that... friendship? No, they weren't quite friends. But they weren't quite enemies any more.  
Whatever they were, Harry had to try and make amends.

Harry kicked the pine needles on the ground in frustration, then groaned, jogging after the pale blond.

 

"Mae was going on about how it's weird that we spend so much time together." Harry blurted out once he'd caught up. Malfoy stopped, not turning around. His emerald cloak fluttered slightly in the breeze.

"Well, Potter, you're perfectly welcome to fuck off. As I recall, it was you, not me, who demanded that we work together." Malfoy's tone did not waver an inch.

Actually, fuck whatever Harry had said before. Malfoy was a dick.

"Fine. We need to finish the potion first." Harry said, his voice monotone. "Then I'll go."

"Well let's hurry up and catch this Graphorn then." Malfoy concluded, continuing along the path in silence, Harry trailing behind again.

 

A lot of walking, and a few tracking spells later, Harry and Malfoy were crouched in some wiry bushes, watching the Graphorn shuffle through the undergrowth.

It looked like something out of a nightmare, and Harry could definitely see why it had the Ministry of Magic Classification of XXXX. About the same size as a rhino, with greyish-purple skin and a large humpback, two magnificent golden horns protruded from its mouth. They weren't unlike a sabre-toothed tigers fangs. Surrounding the horns were hundreds of slimy purple tentacles, writhing like snakes. They were ripping up plants from the undergrowth and stuffing them into its large mouth, filled with sharp canines, and strong molars that looked as if they could crush bone.

 

Harry turned to look at Malfoy, who was staring at the beast, as if transfixed.

"I've never seen one in real life before." Malfoy swallowed, finally meeting Harry's eyes.

"You ready?" Harry asked, and Malfoy nodded.

"Remember, the incantation is 'aboleo armum'. And try to aim at the underside, if we hit the right spot, it should be knocked out for at least ten minutes." Malfoy instructed, Harry nodding along.

"On my count." Malfoy whispered, and they both shuffled into position. "Three... two... one!" He hissed, and they both started furiously casting enchantments at the Graphorn, which raised its great head in panic, rolling its eyes at the scarlet jets of light hitting its thick skin.

 

Letting out an earsplitting bellow, it swung around to face them, it's tail whipping angrily from side to side.

"We need to split up!" Harry shouted, rising from the bushes. "You go right, I'll go left." He commanded, and they both darted out from the foliage right as the Graphorn charged. It's golden horns reflected the sunlight as they thrashed in the air, and it crashed into the undergrowth, getting entangled by the thorny vines.

They continued to furiously cast spells, but to no avail. The Graphorns skin seemed almost tougher than dragon hide, and there was no chance of getting near its underbelly.

While the Graphorn disentangled itself from the bushes, Harry thought quickly. How else could they take it down?

Finally freeing itself, the Graphorn abruptly span around, facing Malfoy and letting out another wild roar.

"AIM FOR THE MOUTH!" Harry shouted at the frozen Malfoy, who snapped back into action, but not quite quick enough.

 

The Graphorn had charged, catching Malfoy's shoulder with one of its razor sharp horns. Harry sprinted over, watching in horror as the creature bent down over Malfoy, it's slimy tentacles fixed over Malfoy's wound, while Malfoy screamed in pain.

But then, Malfoy slowly raised his other arm, a grimace on his face as he uttered the words 'aboleo armum', and a brilliant flash of red light went down its throat.

The beast let out a pitiful moan, then collapsed, rolling down the hill slightly.

 

"Malfoy! Are you ok?" Harry panicked, kneeling beside him in the tough grass.

"Nothing that can't be fixed." He weakly replied, attempting to reach for something in his cloak pocket, but failing. He sighed.

"Can you grab me the blue vial and one of the bandages in that pocket please?" Malfoy asked, and Harry complied, fishing around in the deep pockets in his cloak, feeling many other oddments before he found what he was looking for.

"Now can you wrap this around my shoulder, and help me drink this potion? It's a painkiller, I thought we might need it." He explained, looking remarkably calm for someone who had just been attacked by a heavily armoured, two tonne animal.

Harry shuffled closer to reach Malfoy's arm.

 

"No, No! What are you doing?" Malfoy protested, waving Harry's hands away, 

"What! I'm trying to bandage you up, just like you-"

"No, you cant put the bandage on over my shirt, it'll come loose." He leant his head back on the ground with a sigh. "Merlin, I knew Gryffindor's were stupid, but I didn't know you were this thick." He complained.

"So should I take your shirt off?" Harry asked, suddenly awkward.

"No, just cut it off." Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"With what? I don't have a knife." Harry looked around nonplussed. Malfoy sighed again.

"Are you a wizard or not? Use your wand!" He lifted up his good arm to point his wand at his shoulder, evidently deciding that Harry was too stupid to do it without also giving him an impromptu amputation. Carefully, he traced a neat line across his arm, and the torn, bloodstained sleeve fell away. "Now, do you think you can handle wrapping the bandage?" He asked in a condescending voice. 

Harry huffed in annoyance, but began gently wrapping the gauze around the wound, Malfoy occasionally clenching his teeth an grimacing when Harry had to move his arm to get underneath it.

 

"Pass me the potion now, please." Malfoy asked in a strained voice, the pain clearly getting to him.

"I think that's the first time you've ever said please to me." Harry remarked dryly, to which Malfoy just scowled.

"Shut up, and help me sit up so I can drink it." He said irritably, frowning as Harry slipped an arm under his back, lifting his head. With a shaking arm, Malfoy raised the vial to his lips, and gulped down its entire contents.

"I'm going to check on the Graphorn," Harry said, gently lowering Malfoy to the ground. "You just stay there and let the potion work."

 

As he approached it, Harry was again struck by the Graphorn's enormous size and ugly appearance. Its skin was rough and cracked, mottled in places. The tentacles were thick and slimy, a horrible dark reddish-purple.

Crouching down, Harry took out his wand, and used it to sever the very tip of one of the golden horns off. It glimmered in his hand, the sun throwing its yellow light onto his face. Harry curled his fist around it, and slipped it into his pocket, returning to Malfoy. Who was inexplicably giggling to himself.

 

Harry just stood and stared at him for a second.

"Well there's a sound I never thought I'd hear Draco Malfoy make." He remarked, stunned.

"We should use each others first names more often." Malfoy said drowsily, flapping his arms on the ground weakly.

"Don't do that!" Harry knelt and held his arms still. "You'll damage your shoulder even more. We need to get back to the Ministry so they can fix it up."

"I mean, we do work together a lot..." Malfoy continued, completely ignoring Harry.

"I suppose the potion did this to you." He sighed, attempting to get Malfoy up.

"Harry. Ha-rry. Haaarry." Malfoy mumbled, rolling Harry's name around in his mouth, testing it on his tongue.

"Fine. Draco, will you please stand up?" Harry huffed. "I need to apparate you back, and if you're led down it'll make me fall over, and you'll probably hit your head or something."

"Okay." Malfoy said simply, using his good arm to prop himself up, allowing Harry to help him until he was stood up, abet a little unsteadily.

Harry gripped his forearm, twisting them away, back to the ministry. They struggled through the corridoors in silence, Malfoy- Draco occasionally listing to one side. Eventually, they reached the doors to the Healer's wing, and Harry shoved them open, dragging Draco through.

 

It was chaos.

Healers rushed around them, arms full of books and vials, others supporting Auror's with bloody robes.

Harry swerved to avoid a large cauldron filled with some thick, bubbling, acrid yellow potion being levitated by an anxious looking healer. Malfoy almost dropped to the floor, before Harry caught him, dragging him back to his office.

Once Harry had finally got him through the door- Malfoy being no help at all, just mumbling something about pixies and garden gnomes- Harry managed to place him on the sofa, where Malfoy-Draco promptly fell asleep.

A bewildered expression taking over his face, Harry stared at him for a second, before leaving to try and find Barbra, the head healer.  
"Madam McClintock?" Harry asked tentatively, peering his head around the corner of a door. Inside there were yet more healers scurrying around, chanting incantations to heal wounds and administering potions.

A healer lifted his head from studying a grisly wound in someone's arm. "I think she's in 25b, down the end of the hall. She's got some of the more serious injuries, so it'd better be important." His closely cropped hair fell over his forehead slightly, the exact same warm brown as melted chocolate.

"Probably not. Malfoy got a bit injured by the Graphorn, and then took some pain killer/antiseptic potion that made him go a bit funny, and I wanted to get someone to look at the wound." Harry rubbed the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed. "I'm pretty sure it's fine. I just wanted to double check, you know?"

"If you give me a minute, I can pop over and take a look if you want?" The healer suggested, unscrewing the lid of a tiny glass bottle.

"Yeah, that'd be great thanks." Harry meant against the door frame, watching the healer carefully drop a bit of the potion into the wound, to which the patients face screwed up, before relaxing in relief. 

 

The healers eyes were a light sea blue, almost aquamarine, and there was a scattering of freckles across his cheeks, giving a boyish look to his otherwise manly face.

"S'cuse me." A voice muttered, jolting Harry out of his reverie as someone barged past, knocking Harry's elbow with a box of supplies.

"Ready?" The healer was suddenly at his side, ready to leave. Harry nodded, leading the way out the door.

"I'm Cas by the way." The healer nodded at him, and Harry detected a northern twang in his voice.

"Thanks for coming to check on Draco, I'm Harry." He replied, and Cas had the sense to not say anything about already knowing who he was.

 

When they entered Draco's office, they saw him led out on the floor next to the sofa, one foot still propped up there.

"He must've rolled off the sofa in his sleep or something." Harry laughed, while Cas used his wand to levitate him back onto the red cushions.

"Let's have a look at this, then." He said, kneeling down next to him and carefully unwrapping the bandage. "Not a bad bandage job." Cas raised his eyebrows at Harry.

"Had a bit of practice." Harry shrugged it off, trying to get a look at the wound.

"Could you grab me a bowl of water and cloth? They should be under the sink over there." He nodded at a small white ceramic sink in the corner.

Harry searched through the ginormous cupboards (they must've had an undetectable expansion charm placed on them) before finally finding what he was looking for. After filling the bowl up, he passed it to Cas, who carefully started sponging away the blood.

 

"So did you say it was a Graphorn that did this?" Cas asked conversationally.

"Yeah, we were after a bit of its horn for this tracking potion Ma- Draco's helping me with." Harry watched him sleeping peacefully. "It charged before either of us could do anything."

"I know how they are." Cas nodded "When I was travelling, I had a close brush with one too, ugly brutes, aren't they?" He started to use his wand to knit the wound together again, when Draco's eyes started to flutter open.

"Merlin's pants! Get off me!" Draco wildly flapped his arms at the pair, his eyes slightly unfocused.

Harry and Cas exchanged a look.

"Well, he seems ok. Apart from the effects of the potion. It was probably a bit off." He stood up, brushing his knees off. "Anyway, I've got to get back to all the others. I'll leave you to keep an eye on him." And with a cheeky grin, Cas was gone.

Harry groaned, turning his gaze to the fully grown adult man led on the sofa kicking his legs in the air like a baby.


	4. 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for all the kudos and comments!! x

"Potter." 

Slowly, Harry lifted his head from the paper work on his desk, blearily opening his eyes and straightening his glasses to look at the intruding figure.

"I see you've been doing a lot of work." Malfoy remarked, a smirk on his face.

"And I see that you've finally stopped acting like a toddler." Harry hit back, trying to ignore the curious stares from the other Auror's. "After taking an out of date potion I might add, Mr. Potions Expert." Harry added, a smile threatening to take over his features

Malfoy's smirk twitched, and he rolled his eyes at Harry.

 

"Anyway," Malfoy started, dragging the word out, then glancing around. 

He placed his palms flat on the desk and leant in towards Harry, looking as if he had a secret.  
"Would you like to have a look at the potion? It's reached a new stage in development and we only have a few more ingredients to collect." Malfoy whispered, before flashing Harry a rare, excited smile.

Harry returned it, nodding eagerly and pushing away from his desk.

"Anything to get away from this." He gestured distastefully at the mountain of unfinished paperwork.

"Ah, Potter's slacking off, again." Malfoy called over his shoulder, prompting Harry to race after him and punch him in the arm.

"Dickhead. My boss literally sits right around the corner you know." Harry complained, slightly struggling to keep up with Malfoy's long strides.

Malfoy snorted.

"As if you would ever get fired, let alone told off. Everyone here worships you." He scoffed, rubbing his arm.

"I'll punch you again." Harry threatened.

"Oh, was that what I felt? I thought a fly had just flown into my arm." Draco asked mockingly, holding the door into the potions wing open for Harry, who rolled his eyes and brushed past him.

 

They were in a long, narrow corridor, the stone walls lined with hundreds of doors, each with a different plaque, stating the potion, the brewer and how restricted the access was.

Because each potion often needed specific external conditions, they had to brew them in separate rooms, controlling everything from temperature and humidity to mimicking a moonlit night exactly.

"Through here." Malfoy led the way towards a thickset wooden door, a little white card with elegant script pinned in the middle of the wood.

 

"Why've you put my name down as a brewer as well?" Harry asked, tapping the card.

"If I didn't, you would be blinded the second you stepped foot in the room, as I've marked it as restricted access." Malfoy said matter of factly, cracking open the door and stepping into the dark room, a strong odour of vinegar creeping out after him. 

 

Wrinkling his nose, Harry tentatively followed him in.

The only light came from the bright green fire underneath the iron cauldron, which was bubbling with an almost glutinous mixture.

It was a dark emerald, much like the flames underneath, but seemed to glimmer with specks of blue and yellow and about a billion other colours.

Harry's eyes widened, he'd never seen a potion quite like this. Stepping closer, he could see snatches of images deep in the cauldron; a busy road, an old oak tree and a cloak dragging on wooden floorboards.

"What are these?" Harry turned his wide eyes on Draco, who stepped forward, next to Harry.

"As we haven't added the directional to it, the potion is just showing snatches of anything, anyone in the world is searching for." He picked up a large golden rod and started stirring it.

"Once we tell it what we're looking for, it will stabilise, and we can dip a compass in and it will lead us right to them."

"Wow." Harry murmured, mesmerised by the swirling potion. 

 

He wasn't sure if it was just the moving images, or the smell, but he was beginning to feel a bit sick.

He glanced at Draco, then paused.

Draco looked positively otherworldly, towering over the cauldron, the flames casting ghostly shadows over his face.

Harry's eyes drifted across his straight pointed nose, over his structured cheekbones and barely-there white eyelashes fluttering against them. The dark shadows played through his soft hair, no longer slicked back, instead left to lie loosely, a short fringe cut across his forehead.

He gazed at his molten silver eyes, and his pale lips. If it were anyone else, he would've been quite beautiful, Harry thought, then quickly shook the thought from his head.

Why was he thinking these sorts of things about Malfoy, of all people?

 

Suddenly he became aware of Malfoy saying something, the words drifting through his haze of confusion.  
"-over there. Honestly Potter, what's up with you?" Draco looked up at him through the swirling smoke that filled the room "Were you even listening to me? Got natterjacks in your ears?"

"Uh- sorry." Harry cleared his throat, feeling a bit dizzy. "What did you want?"

"I was asking you to pass that Borage behind you, but if you're feeling that the potion is getting to you we can step outside for a minute?" He gestured to a bundle of dried flowers on the table behind Harry, a worried look in his eyes.

Harry nodded, feeling a slight bit of relief. That must've been why he was thinking such strange thoughts. It was just the fumes from the potion affecting his brain. Nothing to worry about.

 

He stumbled after Draco, emerging out into the corridor and taking in the clean air gratefully. He leant against the wall, resting his head back.

"Sorry, I didn't think about how much it would affect you." Draco said, leaning against the wall next to him. "Once you've spent a lot of time brewing, most potions won't affect you, but if you're not desensitised..."

Harry nodded blearily, feeling less lightheaded already. He placed his palms against the cool stone behind him, and fixed his eyes on a loose thread on Draco's cloak, trying to steady himself.

 

"Are you okay if I go back in? Just for a minute, that borage really needs to be added. Then we can go back to my office and I'll give you something to clear your head." Draco said, getting up off the wall. 

Harry followed his movements, still staring at the loose thread.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Thanks Draco." Harry nodded, Draco giving him an odd look before heading back into the room.

 

The sound of footsteps echoing down the corridor made Harry turn his head, his vision blurring slightly. Two healers were walking towards him, having just exited another brewing room, deep in conversation about something.

As they got closer, Harry could make out what they were saying.

 

"-he just comes walking in, like everything's okay, like we've all forgotten what his type did, what he himself probably did!" A man in his late twenties was saying to a slightly older brunette woman.

"And poor Stacy Barton, having to face him every day, knowing what his father did to her little brother!"

"I don't know why they let him in, Malfoy scum-" The man looked up in surprise as Harry cleared his throat, getting up off the wall.

"Oh, Mr Potter! What are you doing down here?" The woman questioned, just as the door beside Harry opened, and Draco stepped out.

 

"All done- Oh." He looked around in surprise, his face hardening when he saw the two healers, who balked at the sight of Draco.

"Drew, Williamson." Draco curtly nodded at them, then grabbed Harry's wrist, dragging him back up the stairs and into a waiting lift.

The doors slammed shut, and Draco relinquished Harry's wrist, snatching his long fingers away as if he'd been burnt.

 

"They were talking about you." Harry stated, watching Draco stare out the grilles, his face blank. Harry opened his mouth, about to add something else, but Draco interrupted him.

"Don't. I know, and I don't need to hear it again."

He stood still, all but ignoring Harry.

"They do that often?" Harry asked already knowing the answer.

"I don't see how it's any of your business Potter." Draco said bluntly.

The lift juddered to a stop outside the Auror department, and Harry moved to stand closer to the golden grilles.

"Fine. Just know that I don't agree with them."

 

The lift clanged open, and he stepped out, feet sinking into the plush red carpet.

"Potter, wait." The elegant voice reached Harry’s ears, full of turmoil.

Harry turned around, green eyes meeting grey, both expressions inscrutable.

"Why did you call me Draco earlier?"

"You asked me to. When you drank that potion." Harry answered, the lift doors sliding shut, obscuring Draco’s face, which had finally cracked, becoming full of confusion.

 

Harry turned back around and walked back to his desk slowly, reflecting on what he had heard. 

"Harry!" 

A shout broke him out of his reverie, and he snapped his head up, looking around for the source, eyes landing on Mae and Jason making their way towards him.

"Hey, we were just about to get lunch, do you want to come with us?" Mae asked, Jason standing slightly behind her.

Harry nodded, following them out to the staff canteen as they chatted away, his thoughts still fixed on Draco.

 

Did all the healers talk like that about Draco? What if they were like that in front of him? Not that he particularly cared. It was just that slagging your co-workers off was against the Ministry policy. Especially if they were new.

It was kind of justified, Harry thought as he entered the bustling cafeteria and queued up for his meal.  
Draco was on the other side of the war, and was more than a bit of a dick, even before he became a Death Eater. But no one else had seen what Harry had, how Draco had had to have been forced into doing anything Voldermort had wanted, how cruelly he'd been tortured. 

 

And could no one else see that he'd changed? Harry wondered, getting some kind of thick soup slopped into his bowl, then being dragged to a table somewhere by Mae.  
Sure he was still a bit of a twat, but he hadn't just locked himself up in his manor, like his mother had. He was trying to help, to make up for what he and his family had done-

 

"Harry? Harry??" A hand waving in front of his face snapped him out of his thoughts, looking up to see Mae and Jason staring at him.

"Sorry," he shook his head "I went to go see the potion earlier and it got to me a bit."

"Ooh, how is it? I wish I could see a potion as rare and complex as that being brewed, but when I went down the other day, I saw it was restricted access." Mae said with a pout, Jason rolling his eyes at her.

"You're such a potions geek, I swear." He said through a mouth full of pasta, receiving a punch in the shoulder, which he rubbed annoyedly.

"I could see if he would add you to the list?" Harry suggested "It's a bit wasted on me, to be honest, I don't know much about potions like that, but it does look pretty different. It's dark green, but also a hundred other colours, and pictures kinda flash through it. I've never seen one like that before."

Mae sighed. "It's Malfoy though. He probably won't do it."

"D-Malfoy's not as bad as you think." Harry said, skimming the table of healers opposite to find him, but coming up blank. Did he not eat lunch here? It wasn't mandatory, but almost everyone did, it was quicker and easier than going somewhere else, plus it was free.

Maybe it was because the healers talked about him?

He shook it off. Why was he so concerned about him all of a sudden? Malfoy was probably just sulking in his office or thought the food here was too peasant-like for him.

 

It was nothing. Harry just needed to stop thinking about him.

 

——

 

Later on, after a long day at work, Harry sat alone at his wooden dining table, about to eat his dinner, the soft hoots of the tawny owl echoing from the room next door.  
It was spagbol tonight, albeit a rather sad, flavourless version, as he'd run out of pretty much everything except some penne pasta and a frozen bag of mince Harry had found, encrusted in the ice at the back of the freezer. It tasted a little odd, Harry thought it might’ve been a little out of date.

Even Barry, who normally ate more than his fair share, had taken one peck and swept out of the window in distaste, off to find a fat London rat instead.

 

Harry heard a clock chime nine o'clock in the distance and sighed. He'd stayed late at work again, trying to distract himself from the endless thoughts racing around his mind.  
However, they weren't his normal fears about nightmares and death eaters. Recently, his thoughts had taken a rather different direction. A more blond and pointy, Draco-Malfoy-ish direction.

Harry supposed he ought to be grateful, at least these were only irritating, not extremely terrifying.

 

A sharp tapping noise broke the silence, whisking his thoughts away with it.

Harry's head snapped up, spotting a small barn owl perched on the window ledge, a white envelope clamped in its beak. He sprang forwards to open the window for the bird, wondering who on earth would be contacting him. 

He only got letters from a select few people these days, and he knew each of their owls. This owl he did not recognise, making him wonder if a reporter had ignored the harassment laws set up a few years previously.

The owl hopped in, dropped the letter unceremoniously and moved back, unblinking eyes fixed on Harry.

 

Tentatively, he reached for the envelope, on which his name was scrawled in cursive, somehow managing to be elegant but messy at the same time. Ripping it open, he saw the rest of the letter was in the same, vaguely familiar script.

Harry sat on a kitchen chair, reading it aloud to Nettie, who had just appeared from nowhere, curling around his legs.

 

"Harry,  
Abner has just sent me the location of those enchanted snowdrops the potion needs, and as tonight is a full moon, I suggest we go collect them as soon as possible.  
Please reply immediately, enclosing your home address, or somewhere else suitable for me to apparate to collect you at 9.15.  
Draco  
(P.S. don't even bother not replying and pretending to be asleep, I know you're awake, you have the worst sleep schedule of anyone I've ever met.)"

 

Harry groaned and scribbled his address on the back of the letter, along with a "Fuck you".

He didn't see why Malfoy had to keep dragging him along to all these things. He was tired, hungry and in his pyjamas, and definitely did not want to go stumbling around a dark forest looking for some flower at this time of night.

 

But he knew Malfoy would probably break in and drag him out anyway, so he dutifully folded the letter, and was about to give it back to the little barn owl, when he noticed something he hadn't before.

Harry.

Written right there, at the top of the page.

 

And at the bottom, he'd signed it Draco. Was this his idea of reaching out an olive branch? It had to be, especially after their kind-of argument earlier.

Harry looked down at the ground and drew in a deep breath. 

He didn't know how it made him feel, but it was different. Something he hadn't felt in a long time.

 

Shaking his head, he thrust the letter towards the bird, who took the paper in its beak and flew out the window, and Harry sat back down to eat his meal before Draco arrived. He was almost finished, when Nettie started mewling pitifully, amber eyes longingly fixed on her empty food bowl.

"Sorry Nettie," Harry bent down to pick her up and give her a hug. "I forgot, let's get you your dinner." He said in a baby voice, burying his face into her long fur, and she playfully batted his nose.

 

Harry started yanking open cupboards, and impatiently emptying them out, looking for Nettie's favourite cat biscuits, while she scrambled over his shoulders.

"Where the fuck did I put them? I swear I had a whole bag somewhere this morning." He was complaining to himself when a sharp knock sounded on the door.

Harry stumbled through his hall, Nettie trying to eat his hair, and opened the door to reveal a very agitated Draco Malfoy.

 

"We have to leave right away, I just saw-" Draco cut off at the sight of Harry in only a shirt and baggy boxers with a hungry cat on his shoulders, who had just started meowing again.

"And you're not even ready. Fantastic." He cleared his throat, and pointedly looked the other way.

"Sorry, I was just finishing dinner, then I couldn't find Nettie's food and I wasn't expecting you already." Harry rushed out, flustered, just realising how exposed he was. "I'll go and get dressed, I won't be a minute." 

"It is quarter past nine." Draco said, looking down at his gold and dragon skin watch. "And I would appreciate it if we could move this inside, as I'm pretty sure I just saw Goyle heading this way, and he hasn't been too happy with me since I helped get his father sent to Azkaban." 

"Um, yeah, come in." Harry moved to the side to let him pass, and shut the door, leading them through to the living room.

 

"Just moved?" Draco asked, looking at the plain white walls and sparse furniture thoughtfully.

"No." Harry said sourly, letting Nettie down. "It's minimalist. I'm going to get dressed." He raced into his bedroom across the hall and started rooting through his drawers trying to find something to wear, not quite believing that he had just left Draco in his living room unattended.

 

Once he had struggled into a pair of old jeans and a dark green hoodie, Harry rushed back into the living room, half expecting to find half his stuff cursed or something.

 

Instead, Draco was cleaning away the pots and pans he'd used to make dinner.

Harry slowly walked towards him, wondering what kind of surreal alternate universe he was in, where Draco Malfoy cleared his dinner things away... and fed his cat?

 

"You took a while." Draco remarked, turning around on hearing Harry approach him. "You know it's bad to leave things a mess like this. I left your dinner out, in case you wanted to finish it. It's disgusting by the way, you really need to learn about proper food. What is it even supposed to be?"

"Spagbol. I ran out of spaghetti and tomatoes. And sauces." Harry said confusedly, staring at Nettie who was digging into a bowl of cat biscuits hungrily. "Where-"

"Oh, I found the cat food on top of the fridge, it was poking over the edge." Draco said offhandedly, turning back to clearing away Harry's dinner.

Harry nodded slowly, he remembered now. Barry was trying to eat them, and he hates the sound of the fridge, so Harry put them up there so he wouldn't go near them.

 

"Are you ready to go, or do you want the rest of your shit dinner?" Draco said putting the last saucepan on the draining board.

"We can go. I'm not hungry." Harry said leaning against the table.

"I doubt I'd be hungry for that either." Draco laughed, a strange throaty sound, no longer harsh and filled with malice like when they were younger.

 

Harry followed him towards the door, only pausing to put on his coat and shoes. They stepped outside, and Draco offered Harry his arm, which Harry grudgingly accepted after he'd locked the door.

"Nice Slytherin jumper by the way." Draco smirked at Harry's dark emerald green hoodie, then, just as Harry was opening his mouth to make a retort, Draco apparated, whisking Harry away.

"Dick." Harry spat once he'd recovered his breath, and Draco laughed. "Why are you so full of it anyway?" Harry asked. Draco had been laughing rather more than usual and acting a little excitable.

"Potion's almost done." Was all he said in return, walking off down a narrow path through some trees.

 

Harry frowned, then followed his bright ice-blond hair, taking in his surroundings. They were on the edge of a forest, moonlit fields all around.  
The forest looked dark and foreboding, thick brambles coated the trees and encroached on the path they were making their way down. As they got further into the forest, the silver light from the moon began to fade away, and Harry quickened his step to catch up with Draco.

 

"So why exactly did we need to come tonight?" Harry asked, casting a lumos as Draco did the same, a ghostly light illuminating the gnarled trees.

"It's a full moon, and these snowdrops magic is at its height when the moon shines on them, the stronger the better." He replied, then stopped dead as he heard a crack ringing through the trees.

Automatically turning back to back, they waited for a minute, shining their wand light around.

"Probably just a deer." Draco shrugged, slowly moving deeper into the forest, however, his eyes still darted around warily.

"There's not.. werewolves or something here is there?" Harry said, praying his voice was steady.

"Not as far as I know. It is an enchanted forest, it used to be part of an elves territory, but she died a few years back, so there should be nothing here to harm us." He got out a crumpled sheet of paper from his pocket, reading the scribbles on it. 

"The clearing should be just around this corner, if Abner's given me the right directions." Draco said quietly, and Harry nodded, still a bit wary, but as they rounded the corner, he forgot all about the sounds from earlier.

 

"It's beautiful." Harry breathed. That was all he could think, faced with this before him.

 

Silver moonlight shimmered onto a small stream running through a clearing of grass, washed a pearly blue by the serene beams passing through the gaps in the trees. Groups of bright flowers studded the grass, adding colour to the misty sight, and, somehow shining brightest of all, a group of brilliantly white snowdrops reflected the light shone at them.

Tentatively, Harry stepped forward, him and Draco silently making their way towards the flowers as though they were entranced.

Everything seemed to be muted, even the gentle bubbling of the stream sounded like it was far away.

When they got there, Draco knelt down, pulling out a velvet pouch containing a pair of ornate silver knives from his pocket. He gestured for Harry to sit beside him.

 

"It's very important we do this correctly. If we cut even half a centimetre out of place, or split the stem, the magic will drain out and it will be essentially useless." Draco instructed, Harry listening carefully.

Draco leant forwards, holding a stem between the tips of his long fingers. 

"You see where it feels slightly firmer here? Cut it just below there, very slowly, with the knife level to the ground." The metallic blade went through the stalk with no resistance, and Draco gingerly placed it in another velvet bag he got from his pocket.

"Only take a couple of flowers from each bunch, we only need a few dozen, and we don't want to decimate the population." He said, passing Harry the second knife. "Now you try." Draco gestured to the group of delicate flowers, and Harry nodded. 

 

He grasped the green stem, feeling along it until he found the firmer section closer to the base. Harry placed the knife on the stem and glanced at Draco, who's hair shone bright in the light.

"Here?" Harry asked.

"No, just slightly lower..." Draco murmured, reaching out to reposition the knife, his pale hands meeting Harry's darker ones in the process.

Harry heard a sharp intake of breath, and almost jerked his hand away in surprise, as a slight current of something had passed between their hands. It wasn't bad, like an electric shock, it felt more like the flow of magic from hand to wand when casting a spell.

They turned to look at each other in surprise, the rest of their bodies frozen.

"Probably just the magic from the snowdrop passing through us." Draco said, snapping the trance that had taken over the clearing.

Harry mutely nodded, looking back down at their hands, Draco's cold fingers still wrapped around his.

 

"So, just cut here." Draco said slightly awkwardly, moving Harry's hand slightly lower, then retracting his hands quickly.

Harry did as he said, and the stem came away easily in his hand, and he placed it in the open bag between them. 

 

Draco silently moved away to start cutting more of his own snowdrops, and quickly they both fell back into the trance that seemed to hold the whole forest spellbound.


	5. 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait, a-levels and writers block are kicking my ass but I'm getting there!! I haven't put the next chapter up on wattpad yet, but I thought I might as well put this on here  
> enjoy :)

Harry yawns again, a wide, all teeth on display, gaping yawn, attracting the attention of nearly everyone in the office. He leans back in his chair, eyes beginning to close, when a loud pair of footsteps stop in front of his desk.

"Mr Potter!" A sharp voice calls, and Harry snaps up straight, eyes flying open.

"Yes Auror Meitner?" He asks sheepishly.

"Why are you so tired? It is of uttermost importance that you go through these reports so we can catch these Death Eaters on the loose!" The stern figure looms over his desk impatiently.

"I'm sorry, I was up late last night collecting ingredients for the tracking potion with Draco." Harry defended himself, nervously tapping his blunt fingernails against his desk.

"Very well." She relented, sighing. "Just make sure you get your work done on time and then go to sleep. How is the potion coming along by the way? I'd like to see it soon."

"It's doing good!" Harry smiled, relieved he was no longer in any trouble. "I'll talk to Draco about extending the access soon, I think it's just in a critical stage of development at the moment, he wants to keep it as stable as possible." He said, half-lying, his earlier panic returning. 

 

He had asked Draco about Mae seeing it last night, after they returned from the forest (at gone midnight) and he had firmly said no, refusing to even give a reason. Harry would just have to try and convince him, that was all.

"I'll look forward to it." Auror Meitner said, giving a rare smile and swinging around to go talk to some other Aurors.

 

As soon as she was out of sight, Mae whipped around in her chair, her brown eyes wide and excited.

"Did he say anything about me seeing it? Just a peek?" She asked impatiently, scooting her chair over to Harry's desk.

"Well.. Yeah," Harry glanced at her awkwardly, contorting his face into an apologetic expression. "He's just not too enthusiastic about it right now. I'll talk to him though. I'm sure he'll come around."

 

He bent back over his work, and inwardly groaned when he saw Jason approaching. Why was it so hard for anyone to just let him do his work?!

"Ooh, are you guys talking about the potion?" Jason said, looking between them enthusiastically. "Even I want to see it now, and I'm nowhere near as big of a potions nerd as Mae!"

"You know what, I think I'll go talk to him about it now." Harry gathered up his work grumpily, looking back at Mae and Jason as he left, both of them gawking at him in confusion.

"Don't bother waiting for me at lunch, I'll stay and maybe I'll actually get some work done." Harry called behind him snarkily.

He knew in the back of his mind that they didn't really deserve him being moody, he was just exhausted.   
Which wasn't really a good enough excuse, but he'd apologise later. 

 

Harry made his way through the now-familiar halls towards the Healers wing, and knocked on the heavy wooden door, stepping in without waiting for an answer.

"You know, it is usually considered rude to enter somebody's office without being asked." Draco's flat voice came from the large wooden desk he was leant over, an elegant quill racing eagerly across some parchment.

"It's not like you wouldn't've let me in anyway." Harry sat down on the squashy sofa, rifling through the stack of files he'd brought.

"I could have had a patient." Draco retorted, finally looking up at Harry. "And what's got you so grumpy anyway?"

Harry groaned.

"I am exhausted from you dragging me out last night!" He ran his hands through frustratedly, dishevelling it even further. "And nobody will let me work in peace! Every five seconds it's 'when can I see the potion?'! I've already told them they can't!" Harry fumed, glancing up at Draco to see him staring back at him, an unfathomable expression on his face. Draco quickly snapped his eyes away, looking back down at his work.

"Which is correct. We are the only two people allowed in there until it's done." Draco sighed and put his head in his hands. "Now can you shut up and stop acting like a princess. It's giving me a headache. Take a nap or something."

"Whatever." Harry grumbled, but shoved his papers onto the floor and shuffled down to lie on the sofa. 

He might as well have a nap, he was too tired to work anyway. Spotting a large, thickly knitted yellow blanket folded over the back of the sofa, he dragged it over himself, marvelling at the soft texture.

"This new?" Harry asked, gesturing to the blanket. He quite liked it, maybe he could buy one for his apartment.

"I thought I told you to shut up." Draco retorted brusquely, not even looking up.

"Alright then." Harry yawned, closing his eyes and snuggling further into the fluffy cushions.

He was just about to fade into sleep, when a quiet voice conceded from the desk.

"Abner knitted it for me." 

"D'you think he'd make me one?" Harry mumbled, smiling without opening his eyes, finally falling to sleep.

 

——

 

"Harry!" A panicked voice shouted through the blur of his dreams. "Wake up!" 

Harry felt cold hands shake his shoulders violently, yanking him awake. He shot bolt upright, shouting in alarm when he smacked his head into something.

"OUCH! What the fuck Potter?!" Draco swore, holding a hand to his now bloody nose. 

"Shit, sorry, what happened?" Harry asked in bewilderment. His heart was beating a mile a minute and he felt damp and sweaty. His eyes darted around the room and landed on Draco's shocked face.

"You had a nightmare." Draco panted, still holding his nose, scarlet blood dripping down his pale skin. 

"Fuck." Harry swung his legs over the side of the sofa, crashing into Draco again, having misjudged how close he was.

He stared into his grey eyes, and at the blood staining his face.

"Let me see." He said gently, reaching up to pry Draco's hands away from his face.

"You're the last person I'd trust to touch my nose right now." Draco snarled, jerking away from Harry's hand, standing up and retreating to his desk.

"I'm sorry Draco. Just let me see, I've fixed more broken noses than you'd believe." He cajoled, almost tripping over the blanket that had fallen on the floor as he made his way over to Draco, who had his back to Harry.

 

He lightly gripped Draco's thin wrists and moved them away from his face, inspecting Draco's slightly wonky nose.

"I think it's broken." Harry said, stepping closer to Draco, who took a shaky breath in.

"I know what a broken nose feels like Potter." Draco scowled, snapping out of his frozen state. He pointed his wand at himself and muttered "Episkey", his nose moving back into place with a crack, not looking Harry in the eyes.

"I'm going to get some more tissues." Draco said, storming out of the room, past Harry, who leant against the desk taking in a deep breath.

 

"What the fuck was that?" He asked himself, confused. 

First of all, he'd had a nightmare in front of Draco Malfoy of all people. No one knew he still had nightmares. Ron and Hermione thought he'd got over them ages ago.  
Then he'd woken up to Malfoy trying to get him out of the nightmare, which he then repaid him by breaking his nose. Nice.   
And to top it all off, he, Harry, who had had no formal medical training at all, had tried to fix an experienced Healer's nose. Granted, he had fixed plenty of broken noses before, but Draco was the one with an actual degree in Healing.

 

His ears pricked.  
There was some kind of commotion happening outside. Shouting and cruel laughing drifted through the door.  
Harry rushed into the hall, and was met with the sight of a bloody Draco surrounded by a group of healers.

"Finally got what you fucking deserve?" One of them spat at Draco, and the rest of the crowd cackled.

Draco just kept his head down and tried to walk through them back to his office, but they kept blocking his way, shoving him back to the front, hurling more insults at him, each one bouncing off Draco's blank exterior.

 

Harry just looked at them in shock. He knew some of these people, these Healers who had helped him so many times, always with a smile on their face. 

A second later, he saw one of the wizards hands twitch towards their pocket, a wand appearing in his hand, and instinct kicked in.

"PROTEGO!" He leapt in front of Draco, the strength of the shimmering shield forcing some of the Healers back, just before the Healer he vaguely recognised as one of the ones chatting shit about Draco in the Potions corridor the other day shouted a curse, aiming it right at Draco.

In the stunned silence that followed, Harry grabbed Draco's wrist, who shrank back in shock before being dragged back towards his office.

 

"HEY!" A loud voice rang through the corridor, making Harry freeze and Draco walk into him, and grip his waist to steady himself. Harry turned around slowly, recognising the voice.

Cas strode down the hall angrily, heading right for Harry and Draco. Harry stepped in front of Draco, his hand dropping from his waist quickly, prepared for a fight, but Cas stopped in front of Harry, peering around him to look at Draco with concern.

"Did they do that to you?" He coaxed anxiously, eyebrows drawing together as he looked at Draco's bloody nose.

Draco shook his head mutely, stepping beside Harry.

"It was me." Harry blurted. "By accident obviously." He added quickly, and Cas nodded.

"What was the shield for?" 

"They tried to fucking curse him!" Harry seethed, glaring at the huddle of Healers stood together.

 

Cas whirled around to face them, his face full of anger.

"You've crossed the line! In fact, you crossed it the second he arrived here, gossiping about him behind his back, not speaking to him except with snide comments!" He shouted, marching back over towards the huddle, who all looked nervous, and understandably so.   
Cas looked downright terrifying when he was angry.

"I will be notifying Madame McClintock when she returns, and every single one of you will get punished. She's already had to speak to you about this before-" Cas carried on, gesturing wildly and stamping his foot.

 

"Can we go back in?" Draco said quietly, over the top of Cas' raging.

Harry nodded, opening the door for him, then firmly shutting it behind him.

"Why didn't you say it had gotten that bad?" Harry asked, taking the box of tissues from Draco's hand and sitting him down on the sofa.

Draco shrugged, his impassive expression breaking into a frown, lips trembling slightly. He took a deep breath, steadying himself, closing his face off again.

"I can look after myself just fine."

 

Harry put the tissues on the desk, grabbing a cloth and a bowl of warm water.

"Didn't Madame McClintock do anything?" Harry questioned, sitting down beside Draco on the sofa.

"She's already given me my own office. There's not really much else she can do. It's pretty much the whole department, and this isn't Hogwarts, she can't put them in detention." Draco replied, looking at Harry wringing the wet cloth in confusion.

"Wait, don't all the others have their own offices?" Harry asked in shock, pausing for a second.

"No, most Healers are in a group space with desks, like in the Auror department. Only the higher up Healers get offices to theirselves, the rest have to use treatment rooms when they get patients, but it's not their own one. I just got this so I wouldn't have to be stuck in the same room as all the Healers all day." Draco explained, looking down at his hands. "But now they seek me out."

"There must be something else we can do." Harry said, reaching towards Draco's face with the cloth.

He shied back, but when Harry continued forward, he let him gingerly wipe the rusted blood off his face.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not exactly the most popular person here." Draco said sarcastically, attempting a half hearted smile, which Harry returned, the two of them falling silent.

 

Harry concentrated on Draco's face, the water slowly turning orange.   
He didn't fully know why he was doing this. All he knew was that when he was hurting, Ron and Hermione used to always be there to do this for him, and maybe Draco needed the same, no matter how aloof he acted.

Something wet rolled down Harry's fingertip where it had been resting on Draco's face, and Harry's eyes followed the track it had made, upwards to Draco's stone grey eyes, where a second tear escaped, racing down his alabaster skin and meeting Harry's tanned fingers.

Without a thought, Harry reached up and wiped the tear away, Draco's eyes staring right back at him. 

Slowly, Harry put the cloth and bowl of water to the side and leaned towards Draco, engulfing him in a hug. 

Draco was as stiff as a board, but after a while, he gingerly put his arms around Harry, loosely at first and then gripping him tightly, slender fingers digging into Harry's hoodie. He buried his head into Harry's shoulder, and Harry felt a wet patch grow on his hoodie, but didn't say anything, just slowly rubbed his back, his breath ruffling Draco's ice blond hair.

 

Suddenly, the door burst open, and Harry and Draco sprang apart. Harry looked up to see Cas walking in, still slightly fuming.

"I've had it up to here with that lot! Are you okay Draco?" He asked kindly, making them both look at Draco trying to discreetly dry his eyes.

"Yes. And I appreciate you both stepping in, but I can look after myself in the future." Draco said in a clipped, carefully measured voice, not looking either Harry or Cas in the eye.

He stood up, rummaging in his desk for something before heading to the door with a paper bag clutched in his hand.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to lunch." Draco said, walking out without a backward glance.

 

Harry and Cas exchanged a look.

"I'm gonna go after him." Harry said finally, getting up from the sofa. "Thanks for earlier." He nodded at Cas and left the office, racing after Draco through the empty corridors.

 

"Draco, wait!" Harry called, but Draco carried on walking, ignoring him.

He finally caught up and clung onto his sleeve, making Draco whirl around.

"What?!" He exclaimed, his face stony. "If it's about earlier, then I apologise for losing myself like that, it was unprofessional and won't happen again."

"What?" Harry panted, confused. "No, that's fine. You obviously needed to let it out. I wanted to make sure you were okay." 

"I'm not a little child who can't handle a few insults. I don't need your help." Draco protested, shaking Harry's hand off his sleeve and striding off.

"I'm not leaving." Harry said, stubbornly following him.

"You know I'm just going to apparate once we get out of the Ministry. You won't be able to follow me." Draco sighed exasperatedly.

"Side-along." Harry rolled his eyes, batting away a memo that kept bumping into his head.

"I think it's for you. It's not going to go away." Draco interrupted Harry's wild flailing, snatching it out of the air from Harry's useless attempts to catch it, and opened it up.

"They've located some Death Eaters, and want you to go capture them. Guess you will be going away after all." Draco handed Harry the note triumphantly and walked off, leaving Harry stood in the middle of the corridor alone.

 

He watched Draco dissapear, then glanced down at the feebly fluttering memo clutched in his hand.  
On it, was Lise Meitner's scratchy scrawl, demanding he return to the Auror department immediately to hear the briefing about the mission. Harry groaned. He really wasn't in the mood for chasing some Death Eaters today, but nevertheless, he dutifully made his way to the briefing room.

 

"Ah, Potter. You're late, please take a seat." Meitner directed from the front of the room, in the middle of gesturing at a large cork board covered with photos and scraps of paper.

Ignoring what must've been nearly the entire Auror department crowded into the small room staring at him, Harry took the last available seat, luckily next to Mae.

"Right, so as I was saying, we just got a tip-off about a large congregation of Death Eaters in the abandoned village of Hensworthy." Meitner pointed to her spread of maps on the wall. "They are stationed in the church and surrounding houses mainly, so we will apparate to the church yard and split into seven teams, each team assigned to a different location." She paused to survey them all, and Harry shifted uncomfortably.

"Then, at exactly twelve thirty we will launch an attack on each occupied building, taking them by surprise. There are about thirty of them spread out, and just over forty of us. This should be an easy fight, but remember; we are aiming to capture, not kill, but do not hesitate if you or your team members are in danger. Afterwards, regroup at the church with any captives. Right! Protective charms and dissolusments on everybody and let's get going!" She stood up, a smile cracking her stern exterior, and the whole room was suddenly filled with activity, cloaks swirling and enchantments being cast.

 

"Did I miss anything?" Harry hurriedly muttered to Mae, who was struggling with some Shielding Gloves from Weasleys Wizarding Wheeze's.

"No, only that they're pretty sure the ones we've been trying to track are there too." She whispered back, as they made their way to the Portkey Point, where they all huddled around old objects in their groups they'd been assigned.

"Fingers on portkeys everybody!" Meitner called over the excited hubbub, and everyone scrambled to find a place. Group raids that used more than ten Aurors didn't happen often, so the atmosphere was tense with the thrill before the fight.

Harry obediently placed a finger onto a tattered notebook, and a hook seemed to latch onto his navel, jerking him and the others with him up off the floor. They span dizzyingly fast, and crashed onto soft grass, legs giving way.

 

"Fuck, I don't think I'll ever get used to that." Harry swore, looking around at his surroundings as the murky outlines of everybody got to their feet. They were in a graveyard, springy grass erupting with bright spring flowers and worn lichen covered tombstones.  
An enormous church loomed over them, stained glass windows depicting intricate scenes Harry couldn't quite make out. Around the churchyard stood a crumbling dry stone wall, and beyond that, dainty thatched cottages were clustered together, budding roses about to erupt into bloom smothering the red brick walls.

"Doesn't look half bad." Jason summarised, Mae nodding thoughtfully. 

"You wouldn't think this would be where a group of Death Eaters would choose to set up camp." She added, pleasantly surprised.

"We'd better get to the building, it's 12:28." Joanie, another witch in their group said, leading them over to a rusty old gate out of the church yard.

 

They were just about to leave, when a cry echoed from another group, making them all look around in panic, but they couldn't really see what was happening as everybody was under dissolusment.

"It's probably just Artie finding another spider." Mae uneasily shrugged it off. "Remember yesterday when that money spider crawled up his wand?" She whispered, and they all laughed, Joanie putting her hand on the gate to open it.

And dropping to the floor.

"Joanie!" Mae rushed down to see her, while Jason and Harry circled back to back, wands out, hearts thumping.

 

More shouts shattered the silence, invisible people dropping to the ground one by one. Jets of light came from all directions, from panicked Aurors and the houses all around.

 

But still, not a single Death Eater could be seen.

"It's a trap!" Harry hissed over his shoulder to Jason. "They must've known we were coming."

"I think she's still alive." Mae concluded, sounding worried. "I've tried to rennervate her though but she's not waking up." 

 

An ear splitting scream joined the fearful noises.

"Don't try to apparate!" Meitner yelled quickly. "There's a spell over the place, you'll get splinched!"

"Fuck, fuck fuck fuck." Jason hissed. "How are we supposed to escape?!"

"Wait, whats that?" Mae pointed to a tall, black cloaked figure emerging from the church.

Harry felt his palms get sticky, and his breath shorten, but forced the upcoming terror down. He had to see this through, for his team.

"A Death Eater." He swallowed, raising his wand to point at it, as more followed from out of the church. Spells ricocheted off invisible barriers around the figures as they advanced, the air rippling as horrified Aurors attempted to retreat.

All the dissolusments suddenly dropped, the Aurors looking around in alarm. The Death Eaters circled, slowly rounding up the Aurors, knowing there was nowhere for them to go.

Harry's heartbeat echoed in his ears, making it the only thing he could hear. Visions of the graveyard all those years ago made their way into his mind, reality blurring with memory.

The circle of black cloaks surrounded all the Aurors, who stood defiantly, wands outstretched. There was way more than the thirty promised. It seemed more like fifty at least.

 

"Single out the leader." Harry panted to anyone who would listen, feeling like he was pushing through molten lead.

"Finally, we have you all here. Welcome!" One hooded figure spoke in a rich deep voice, raising his hands to the huddled Aurors. One of the Aurors desperately sent a curse at him, which just bounced back, hitting Jason, and making him crumple to the floor.  
Harry and Mae caught him wordlessly, lowering him to the ground carefully in silence.

"Now now." The Death Eater seemingly in charge scolded, a smirk almost visible through the darkness of his hood. "No need to try and hurt us. We're going to leave you alive. Well, most of you. I think some of us have had a little too much fun." He conceded, the rest of the Death Eaters laughing.

"I just thought I'd gather you here to warn you." Surprise flitted across some of the Aurors faces, and the Death Eater chuckled.

"What?" He asked, mock astonishment colouring his tone. "It's only fair that I let you know we're going to destroy everything you've fought for. If only so you know who to thank when we're done." He finished, as if he was doing them all some big favour and waving his wand. A pressure Harry had barely noticed lifted.

"Anyway, ta ta for now." He gave them a taunting baby wave, and disapparated with a pop, the rest of the Death Eaters following suit.

The Aurors were voiceless.

 

"Right. Everybody gather your teams, unconscious or awake." Meitner said shakily. "Meet here and we'll do a count, then disapparate to the Healers quarters for medical attention."

Harry and Mae went and carried Joanie back to the others, not saying a word.

Harry was still trembling, his heart racing. He didn't look anyone in the eye, hoping they wouldn't see how this had affected him.

 

Meitner went around the clusters of Aurors, muttering names and numbers under her breath. 

"Okay, all accounted for. All of you, take one or two people at the most and apparate back. If you have no one, take someone from another team." Meitner instructed, overseeing the pairing up, as group by group, people disappeared.

Harry grasped Joanies wrist gently, seeing Mae do the same with Jason, and twisted into the Healers corridor.

Joanie was immediately snatched off him, and bustled away by a healer.

Harry just stood and stared blankly, people moving around him, talking, but the words not getting through.

"Harry. Harry!" Hands grasped his shoulders and the words came through as if he was underwater. Harry felt himself being steered through a door and forced down onto a sofa. 

"Harry, I'm really sorry but I have to go help the others, just stay here until Draco gets back from his lunch, okay?" A vaguely familiar voice said, the speaker already rushing back out the door.

 

He sat there in a trance for what seemed like years and seconds all at once, until a new voice reached him through the haze, and he snapped awake, like he was breaking through the surface of the ocean.

A gasp escaped him, and he began to hyperventilate, clutching his chest as everything hit him at once again. 

The gravestones. A cauldron. Black cloaks. Dead, unseeing eyes. 

 

"Harry, listen to me. It's Draco, you're safe." 

Harry forced his eyes up, and seeing the shock of white blond hair, began to kick and push the person away.

"Harry! Stop, it's me!" The person shouted, then sighed, pointing his wand at Harry, who began to fight even harder, scrabbling for his wand at the same time.

"Petrificus totalus." The figure muttered, and Harry's limbs snapped together, stiff as a board, inciting his panic even more.

"Harry please calm down, I'm not going to hurt you." The voice soothed, pushing Harry back onto the sofa and arranging the blankets and pillows around him.  
He got up, searching through his cupboards for something, and returned carrying a small dark blue bottle and a medicine spoon.

"This is a potion I developed for dreamless sleep. I'm going to give you a small dose so you can recover and wake up in a few hours. I promise it won't harm you at all, I take it myself."

Harry felt his mouth being pried open, and a thick liquid being tipped in. It trickled down his throat, and he was forced to swallow.

 

Almost immediately he felt his limbs becoming heavier, and slipped into a deep sleep.


End file.
